


History Has Its Eyes On Me

by Lamsfan



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt/Comfort, Legal Inaccuracies, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, a little smut, discussion of nonconsensual sex, gratuitous Artist!John reference, gratuitous turtle reference, unnamed character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-09-27 14:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamsfan/pseuds/Lamsfan
Summary: George and Alex meet under difficult circumstances.





	1. The Meet-Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Alex were attracted to one another at first sight. Their first meeting did not go as planned, but they manage.

Working three jobs between college graduation and law school seemed the only way Alex could survive until his financial aid package kicked in. He made enough to cover his few bills and he put all of his remaining money aside to pay for his housing, books and supplies. To save money, he took advantage of his allotted free meal while he was on the clock at the coffee shop and to make money, he took as many extra shifts as he could at the library. Customer service jobs could be a pain, but the lawn service job was hot and backbreaking and Alex always finished his shifts covered in dirt, scratches and stings. This was the job he looked forward to quitting the most. 

Alex could feel the sun beating down on his head through the hat he had bought specifically because it claimed to have UV protection. He could feel the heat on his cheeks and the tip of his nose and hoped it wouldn’t burn. Clearly, the hat didn’t work as well as promised and Alex started crafting a review in his head. Maybe he’d get a refund and still keep the hat; it was good for shading his eyes, if nothing else. He let go of the lever on the handle of the mower and it stopped automatically, giving him a moment to wipe the sweat from his face and take a drink of water. Like him, the water had also become warm in the sun and stopped being refreshing an acre ago. He regretted his decision to use the small self-propelled mover to finish up rather than the riding mower because it increased his time in the sun. But the area had some tight corners and he hadn’t wanted to run over any of Mr. Washington’s prized plants. 

Everyone in the lawn service knew how particular the great lawyer was about his garden; he put as much interest in growing his herbs and vegetables as he did in cooking them and had recently begun taking flower arranging classes using his own blooms. So Alex used the small mower to get as close as possible to edge of the flower bed, then used his shears to manicure it. He got down on his knees, turned up his music, and focused on the task at hand. He didn’t hear the buzzing of the first wasp as it alit on his arm, but when he tried to swat it, he felt the sting. He jumped up and shook his clothes, almost falling with the sudden motion and accidentally kicking the nest. 

The swarm rose quickly, with an almost deafening buzz. Somewhere in Alex’s mind, he remembered a scene from a movie where the antagonists were being attacked by some kind of lethal hornets. One died from the stings, her hand frozen around a weapon. That’s not going to be me, he thought, and took off running, wasps in hot pursuit. He had almost made it to his truck, and safety, when he tripped and fell. He covered his face as the wasps stung his arms. As he lost consciousness, he had the sensation of being wrapped in warmth and floating away.

George watched Alex as he did almost every week when he took care of his lawn. He knew from the owner of the lawn service that Alex was smart and driven, ready to fly through law school and take the legal world by storm. He should have focused on how he could mentor the boy; instead he admired his smooth movements and lithe body. He felt like a dirty old man but he couldn’t resist the desire he felt. He didn’t want to resist if he was honest. He watched as Alex took off his hat and dried his face, then removed his hair tie and let his dark hair fall over his shoulders. He ran his fingers though it and put it back up into a loose and messy ponytail, followed by the hat. George watched his taut muscles pulling against the chest and sleeves of his tee shirt and decided they both needed a break and something cold to drink. 

George had poured two ice cold lemonades into insulated travel mugs and had barely taken two steps into the yard when he saw the boy suddenly start running, screaming and flailing his arms as he tried to outrun a swarm of wasps so dark, it blocked the sun behind him. He tripped on the lip of concrete at the edge of the lawn and fell. George dropped the mugs, sprinted to where Alex lay covering his face and scooped him up, taking no notice of his own stings as he ran back to the house.

“We’ll just let him rest,” Dr. Craik said as he injected Alex with a dose of diphenhydramine and a steroid. “These should help with the itching and swelling. I’ll leave samples of both, pills though, until he can get a prescription filled. Did you call anyone to come get him?” 

“I left a message with the lawn service right after I called you, so his boss knows what happened.” His message had been simple; just that Alex had been stung several times and seemed to be allergic, had gotten immediate treatment and would be staying the night to sleep off the medications. No one would question Alex staying overnight. George was well known in their small community. He had a reputation for helping those in need and everyone trusted him. He knew he should have tried harder to reach Alex’s emergency contact, a John Laurens according to the note in his wallet, but as he sat next to him and dabbed calamine lotion on the stings, he just wanted to be close to him and take care of him. He would admire his beauty tonight, then send him on his way in the morning and wish him well. 

Alex awoke to soft voices and though he couldn’t make out most of the words, he could make out his name. He heard a heavy door close, followed by approaching steps and he tried to sit up before the pain knocked him back down. 

“Hey, hey, slow down,” George said as he knocked and stepped into the room. “I’ve seen you working on my lawn all summer but I don’t think we’ve actually met. I’m George Washington.” 

“Alex. Alex Hamilton. You probably knew that from the invoices, though.” He licked his lips and George’s eyes involuntarily tracked the motion. 

“Yes, but it’s nice to put the name and face together. I’m glad you’re awake. I was starting to worry.” 

When he saw Alex trying to sit up again, George crossed the room and propped several pillows behind his back. He reached out to brush his hair back from his face, and then caught himself before he carried out the overly intimate gesture. Instead he poured a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the nightstand and held it to Alex’s mouth, encouraging him to sip through the straw. 

The water soothed Alex’s parched lips and throat but forced his attention to the numbness and stinging on the rest of his body. He looked at his arms and saw the gauzy bandages covering them. “Wait, what happened?” Fuzziness shrouded his brain. The sun had set and he was lying down in what was obviously a guest room. “Why am I in bed?” he croaked. 

“You looked hot and I was about to bring you a cool drink when I saw the swarm. You fell and I grabbed you and brought you inside before they did too much damage. I called my personal physician to check on you,” George continued. “I probably could have treated your stings myself but I was worried you had hit your head when you fell. You’ve been asleep for a few hours but Dr. Craik thinks it’s because you’re allergic to the wasp venom and not because of a concussion. He gave you something for the itching and the pain and he removed about a dozen stingers from your arms. It’s a good thing you covered your face. Those wasps seemed like they were out for blood.” 

It all started to come back and Alex blushed in embarrassment. Here he was, a grown man being rescued by a stranger, a handsome stranger, but still a stranger, and being given the full ‘damsel in distress’ treatment. He was grateful, though, that Mr. Washington had not called an ambulance. There was no way he could afford that and an emergency room visit. 

He started pulling back the blanket. “Thanks for your help. I should be going, though. You’ve really done enough.” That sounded angrier and less grateful than he had intended and he sighed and started over. “Thank you. I appreciate everything.” He noticed two red spots on Mr. Washington’s hand and realized he had been stung during the rescue. “I hope the doctor looked at those, as well.” 

George held up his hand and looked at it as if he hadn’t noticed. “I’m fine. They didn’t even leave the stingers behind.” 

“Well, thanks again. I should leave, though. I don’t want to ruin your evening any more than I already have. Please let me know what I owe you for the house call. We’ll have to set up a payment plan, though.” 

George raised his hand in a gesture to stop both the movement and the words. “Don’t worry about the money. You were injured on my property. I’m responsible. And your job probably has coverage for on the job injuries, too, right?” 

Alex shrugged. He was paid in cash every week and he’d never met with anything that even resembled a human resources department to discuss any benefits. But he knew with certainty that his boss was a cheapskate and he doubted he’d get more than a day off. He might even somehow end up owing money to the company. 

“So, let’s deal with all of that tomorrow. You can leave now if you feel up to it but I’d feel better if you stayed the night and rested. Your boss knows where you are and the bedroom door locks.” He looked over his shoulder at the partially closed door; half wishing Alex would lock them both on this side of it and half understanding how creepy it might seem to offer a stranger a bed for the night, then try to stay in the room, too. “The bathroom is right there. Towels and toiletries are on the shelf, pajamas, too, if you want to change into something more comfortable. Dr. Craik left your next dose on the nightstand; you should probably take it now.” He handed the pills to Alex and held the water to his lips again. “There’s also some oatmeal bath on the counter in case you want to soak. I’ve heard it helps.” 

Alex weighed his options. The bed was much more comfortable than the couch he was camping out on at John’s apartment until he could move into student housing, if he could afford to move into student housing. It was even more comfortable than the bed he sometimes shared with John. And the idea of a warm bath appealed to him. “Thank you. I am pretty tired. And sore. If it’s not too much trouble, I think I will stay.” 

“It’s no trouble at all. Sleep well, Alex. I’ll see you in the morning. Ask Alexa to ‘drop in’ on me if you need anything.” George headed for the door, not daring to sneak a glance back at the handsome boy in his bed. 

Alex had let himself sink back into the pillows as he listened to Mr. Washington’s instructions. He had a deep and soothing voice and to Alex it felt like a lullaby. What are you doing, he wondered. His eyes closed before he could answer the question. 

The itching and soreness returned before sunrise and woke Alex from a surprisingly sound sleep. He swallowed the pills that sat on the nightstand and checked his phone for the time. 4:30am. He called the coffee shop and let his boss know he wouldn’t be in for his shift, then called his boss at the lawn service to ask him to have someone come pick up the truck and the lawn equipment. He wasn’t going anywhere near that nest to retrieve the small mower and his arms were still sore enough that he was sure he wouldn’t feel like shifting the gears on the riding mower. 

He carefully pulled the gauze bandages from his arms as he walked to the bathroom and found the aftermath of the stings was not nearly as bad as he had expected. The single sting on his face was a different story and he realized why Mr. Washington had seemed to be looking at him with such concern. It had caused his eyelid to droop and the white part of his eye to turn red, though he suspected it looked better now than it had the night before. He washed his face carefully with the cleanser on the sink and decided to take Dr. Craik’s advice for the oatmeal bath. He sat on the edge of the tub pondering his predicament. He held his hand under the water until it was the right temperature, then put the stopper in place and sprinkled the powder. 

His clothes had also suffered from the attack. Both his tee shirt and his jeans were covered in dirt and grass stains. The knees of his jeans, which were already thin, now had just a few denim strands keeping them together. He folded both items and placed them on the closed toilet lid, knowing there was no way he would want to put them back on after his body was clean. And since that turned out to be correct, he had no choice but to try the pajamas Mr. Washington had left in the bathroom. He had to roll the sleeves, waist and legs and he looked like a child wearing his father’s clothes. 

“Good morning,” George said when he saw Alex enter the kitchen several hours later. He didn’t laugh at the way his pajamas fit Alex. On the contrary, it gave him a warm feeling seeing the boy dressed in his clothes, surrounded by his scent. He wondered how the soft cotton felt against the boy’s skin. He shook himself out of his reverie and continued, “I thought I might need to check on you soon. How are you feeling?” 

“Much better. That oatmeal bath was surprisingly soothing. I wouldn’t have thought of that.” 

“I’m glad it helped.” George removed a pancake from the skillet and placed it with several others on a plate he had warming in the oven. “I hope you like bacon. I made a ton.” Alex nodded. “How do you like your eggs?” 

“Scrambled?” Alex wasn’t sure why it came out as a question. 

“Coming up. Pour yourself some coffee. The mugs are by the pot. Creamers and sugar are in the cabinet.” 

“You didn’t have to fix breakfast. You’ve done so much already and I’m not usually that hungry in the morning.” Just then, his stomach rumbled loudly and exposed the lie. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since his last shift at the coffee house, which a quick calculation told him was more than thirty-six hours ago. Maybe forty-eight? “I guess today will be the exception,” he laughed. 

Mr. Washington’s cooking tasted as good as it smelled and Alex enjoyed the way it satisfied his taste buds and filled the empty space in his stomach. What surprised him, though, was how their easy conversation satisfied him as well. Not only was George, he’d asked Alex to call him that, a practicing attorney, he taught a third year course at Alex’s law school. He gave tips on surviving first year classes and challenged Alex’s opinions on current events. Neither of them noticed the antique grandfather clock in the foyer counting off the hours until a reminder on Alex’s phone brought an end to their leisurely breakfast. 

Alex returned to the guest room to gather his few belongings. He reluctantly changed back into his clothes from the day before and found that he missed the scent of his borrowed pajamas. He called John for a ride, knowing he would be teased mercilessly for incident. He thanked George again for his help and hospitality and tried to hide his surprise at the man’s response. 

“Alex. I’ve enjoyed our conversation and I’d like to see you again under better circumstances. Do you think you might be interested in a date? Maybe something that doesn’t include doctors or injections?” 

It’s amazing how many thoughts can go through a person’s mind in a matter of seconds. Alex wondered why a man of George’s stature would be at all interested in him, a poor, loud-mouthed student. He wondered what it would be like to have a relationship with an older man, if people would stare at them and assume George was just a sugar daddy. He wondered what George smelled like and how it would feel to be curled in his embrace. Oh. _Oh._ Where did that come from? 

“Yes, I think I would,” he answered with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. James Craik was George Washington's personal physician. I'm pretty sure he killed him with all of the bloodletting and rectal poultices.  
Andrew Wyeth was the first American law professor. His death is a pretty good murder mystery. Take a look.


	2. First Date, Second Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George meets John. Alex wants to follow old fashioned dating rules.

**Alex: The flowers were v chivalrous**

**George: I’m glad you like them. I’ll pick you up at 7:00pm. **

**Alex: K. U nd 2 meet my rmmate so he knows ur not axe murderer**

**Alex: *an axe murderer**

**George: That’s fine. I’m glad you have friends who care about your safety.**

**Alex: Wht shld i wear?**

**George: Something easy to take off.**

**Alex: I told u 3 dates b4 sex**

**George: We’ll see.**

**Alex: ;)**

A week of texts and semi-erotic phone calls had Alex completely wound up in anticipation of their date. Could it live up to his fantasies? Even if it didn’t, he still needed to deal with his immediate problem. He plugged his cell back into its charger and dug a bottle of lube out of his backpack before heading to the bathroom. No matter how close he and John were, it would be rude to jerk off in the middle of his living room. 

John knocked on the door and, like a kid, didn’t stop knocking even after Alex had shakily told him he would be out in a moment. “Can you hurry it up? I’m going to be late for work. What are you doing anyway?” When Alex opened the door, John noted his flushed cheeks and the lube in his hand. He laughed, “First thing in the morning? This dude has got you good!” 

Alex couldn’t deny it. He just shrugged and avoided John’s eyes as he squeezed past him and stood in the hallway. 

“Okay, whatever. When is the big date? Is he excited to see you without bug bites all over your,” he gestured with his hands, “everything? Because that definitely wasn’t your best look.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “It was just my face and arms so stop exaggerating. Anyway, we’re going out tonight. He’s coming to the door to meet you. I told him what an old-fashioned father you are and that you’d think you were a bad date if you just honked the horn. Leave the shotgun in your bedroom, though.” 

“Very funny. I’m not even a full year older than you,” John said around his toothbrush. “But seriously, be safe. I know you’ve worked in his yard all summer and you feel like you know him and everything but call me if he turns out to be a jerk. I’ll come get you, no matter where you are or how late it is.” 

It was a tender moment. “Thanks, J. That means a lot. I think it’ll be fine, though. He didn’t try anything when I was half-conscious and all drugged up. Unless you think that was just to get me to let down my guard?” He came back into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet while John showered. They finished their conversation and it was like old times, but without the messiness of jealousy and hurt feelings, just two friends discussing their lives.

Alex only had his coffee shop job today, which kept him busy and didn’t give him time to worry about meeting George later. But he found himself looking up every time the bell above the door rang. George had come in a few mornings to say hello and pick up coffee and donuts for his office. They’d spend a few minutes chatting and George would comment on how Alex’s eye looked better or check his arms to make sure the swelling had gone down. Alex would shiver at the briefest touch and George would always whisper something sweet in his ear. George wasn’t showy in leaving generous tips for the other baristas but they, too, had started looking for him in the mornings. 

“Order for George!” Alex called out. 

The customer noticed his wide smile. “You’re awfully happy about my coffee. Did I win a prize or something?” 

“No, your order just reminded me of someone. But just for giving me something to smile about, I’ll toss in a donut. What’s your pleasure?” 

This wasn’t Alex’s first date ever; it wasn’t even his first date this month, it just felt like the only one that mattered. He found himself changing his clothes over and over, putting his hair down, then up, then down again, and cleaning the nonexistent dirt from his shoes. He would have been surprised to know that the successful, confident, sophisticated George Washington was having a similar crisis across town. 

George’s nerves hadn’t disappeared by the time he arrived at Alex’s door but, like when he was in court, he never let anyone see him sweat. He even laughed when John answered the door with a stern look and his arms folded across his chest and decided to play along. 

“Good evening, sir. I’m George Washington. I’m here for Alex.” He held out a hand and John shook it with maybe faux disdain. George wondered if John already hated him or if he was putting on an act to scare him. Or try to scare him. He didn’t scare easily. 

“John Laurens, Alex’s best friend. I’m not sure what your plans are for the evening, Mr. Fancy-Pants Lawyer, but I expect him home by midnight. And if you go dancing, make sure you leave room for Jesus and-” 

“John, stop,” Alex laughed when he came into the room and cut John off from his speech. “You don’t set my curfew. And let him in.” John stepped aside and crossed his arms again. He stood an inch or two shorter than George but had straightened his posture to make himself seem taller. 

“Hi, George. Come on in. He’s kidding.” Suddenly, Alex didn’t know how to greet George. Should he shake his hand? Give him a bro-hug? A real hug? He waited a beat too long to make his decision and George leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Alex caught a quick whiff of his cologne, woodsy and masculine, and tried not to swoon. 

“Good evening, Alex. You look very handsome.” George tried not to let his eyes roam, especially not with John staring a hole in his head, so he turned his attention to the small, but neat, apartment. He spied the nature paintings on the walls and the small pencil drawings scattered on the coffee table. He squinted to see the artist’s signature and assumed it was John’s work. Alex’s voice brought his attention back to their conversation. 

“Thanks. You look pretty dashing yourself. I just need to get my phone and we can go.” 

John circled George when Alex left the room and looked him over carefully, noting his tailored clothes and neat manicure. “I’m kidding about the dancing,” he said quietly, “but he likes you. Don’t hurt him. Because I’ll hurt you.” 

“You can save your threats, John,” George answered, evenly but without bite. “I like him, too, and I’d like to get to know him better. Hurting him would only hinder me from reaching that goal.” 

John didn’t have a chance to respond. He and George rushed to school their features into something more neutral as Alex re-entered the room. If he caught the tension, he ignored it. “Ready?” 

“Yes. It was nice meeting you,” George said as he shook John’s hand again. John grunted in response. 

“That was interesting,” George said after he saw Alex safely into the car and settled himself into the driver’s seat. 

“It’s not you. He just worries about me.” There was a beat of silence that probably should have been filled with some details about his relationship with John but instead, Alex just said, “It’s complicated.”

“How long had you been watching me?” Alex asked once they had placed their orders. “I have a feeling it wasn’t just a coincidence you happened to be right there when I needed you.” 

George had expected this question at some point, yet he still hadn’t formulated an answer that made him look less like a Peeping Tom and more like a dashing would-be suitor. He buttered a roll to give himself more time to think of a good answer. It didn’t work, so he went with the truth. “I noticed you a few weeks ago. I had an early day at work and thought I’d take a nap in my hammock. But that riding mower was so loud, I couldn’t relax.” 

“I guess you couldn’t have told me to hold it down. That would have defeated the reason for me even being there.” 

“True.” 

Their conversation paused while they accepted their appetizers. Alex had told a joke when George ordered oysters and champagne and laughed again when they were delivered to the table, wondering if George felt either of them needed an aphrodisiac. “I have a confession,” he said. “I saw you that day, too. That’s probably why the mower was so loud; I was trying to get a closer look at you. I’d seen photos of you in legal journals and you had that stuffy lawyer look. But when you changed into shorts and a tank top, well, that caught my attention.” 

“It’s too bad you didn’t say anything. Maybe we could have been sitting here weeks ago.” 

“I guess I owe the wasps a thank you.” He tried not to scratch his arm as he said it.

Their conversation flowed easily throughout dinner, surf and turf, at George’s suggestion. They even had a laugh at how ridiculous they thought they looked in their lobster bibs. “Would you mind a selfie? I promise not to show anyone.” 

“I don’t mind. Just make sure you get my good side.” 

Alex scooted closer to make sure he could get both of them in the picture. Neither of them commented when he didn’t quite move all the way back to his previous seat afterwards. It seemed they had known one another much longer than a week and before long, they were sharing bites of dessert and discreetly holding hands under the table. It was all so sweet and romantic. 

But as soon as they entered the club, with its flashing lights and pounding beat, the sweetness and romance turned to hunger and yearning. George immediately forgot John’s instructions about dancing; he hadn’t planned to follow them anyway. On the first slow song, he tucked Alex’s head against his chest and used a hand on his lower back to pull their hips together. George could feel the steady beat of Alex’s heart against his own and he couldn’t help burying his nose in his soft, vanilla scented hair. He could feel his desire growing but before it became obvious, he whispered into Alex’s ear, “I’m going to be a gentleman and take you home now.” 

As he escorted Alex up the stairs and to his door, he said, almost shyly, “This was nice. I hope we can do it again.” He tilted Alex’s face up to his. “I’ve been thinking about those lips all night, so plump and perfect. I’m sure you caught me looking.” He ran a thumb over the soft skin. “May I?” Alex nodded. George pressed their lips together and pulled away slightly to see Alex’s eyes flutter shut, before kissing him again, this time with more pressure and urgency. He licked across the seam and Alex opened his mouth to allow his tongue to enter. George pinned him to the door, the thud unfortunately loud enough to announce their presence. “I could kiss you all night,” George said, just as John opened the door and cleared his throat. 

George chuckled as he nicknamed John ‘The Cock Blocker’ in his head. He greeted John, said goodbye to Alex, and turned to leave. He had just gotten to his car when he had an idea. He dialed the phone; it rang just once before Alex answered. “Would you like to go out for a drink? Or coffee? I’m not sure if you want to wake up or go to sleep.” 

Alex laughed. “Oh, you mean right now?” 

“Yes, I’m rather anxious for our second date.” 

“Me, too. I’ll be down in a second.” For the second time that day, Alex had trouble wiping the huge smile from his face. 

John pretended to be upset that Alex was going right back out. He was happy to see him so smitten, but seeing Alex date and knowing he would never come back to him still hurt. 

“Can we get the coffee to go?” Alex asked as he slid into the car. “I liked where our last date was headed and I don’t want to have to wait too long to pick up where we left off.” 

“I have a better idea. Let’s skip the coffee. I know a private little spot with a view where we can do just that. Or sit and talk. I’d like that, too.” He was telling the truth; not only did he like sparring with Alex about legal issues and current events, he liked listening to his voice, always so full of passion and with a trace of an almost musical accent he seemed to be trying to hide. 

They drove for twenty minutes before Alex couldn’t hold his curiosity any longer and began peppering George for clues. “Just wait. We’re almost there. You’ll like it,” George answered and pulled off the main road, stopping at a small path. He pulled a small pop-up cabana and a blanket from the trunk, took Alex’s hand and led him through a patch of trees. 

“Hm, you just happened to be prepared for this? Oh, I see. You bring all your dates here to make out.” 

“I can see how this would look a little planned but, no. Well, yes, actually. There are some evenings when the sky is clear and the weather is perfect. I hear this place calling me and I don’t want to waste time going home for supplies when I could come straight from work and enjoy it.” 

They arrived at the clearing and Alex covered his mouth at the view: a full moon and bright stars in the clear night sky, waves from the small lake lapping over the sand, sailboats floating in the distance. The setting couldn’t have been more romantic if it tried. 

“The view is beautiful.” 

“Yes, it is,” Alex answered, then turned and found George’s eyes on him rather than the night sky. George’s lips on his cut off the ‘oh’ that escaped. 

Alex didn’t know when he had fallen asleep but he awoke to the beginning of a beautiful sunrise, all pale pinks and golden yellows, his head on George’s chest, and George’s strong arms wrapped around his waist. He touched his swollen lips and remembered how they had spent the night kissing like teenagers. 

George awoke with his movement and opened one eye to peer down at him. “Good morning, sunshine.” He turned them over so Alex lay on the blanket and his hair fanned around his face, emphasizing his fine bone structure. He leaned in to kiss him again. “I think I’m going to be in trouble with your roommate for keeping you out all night.” 

“Probably. But if we take him coffee and a bagel, he’ll be fine.” 

“We can do that. What about you? You’re probably hungry and you never got your coffee last night.” 

“True, but I’d like to go home and freshen up. Maybe rehash the evening with John. He’s going to want all of the details. I can meet you somewhere later, though.” He got up and began gathering their things. 

“No, I’ll drop you off, go home and change, then come back to pick you up. That should give you enough time for your coffee klatch and then we can have our third date,” he winked. 

“That’s very sly of you. And we need to work on your math.” He absentmindedly looked out the window once they had returned to the car and reviewed the last seven days like one of those old movies where the photos flashed on the screen to show the passage of time. In every one of them, Alex saw himself smiling and happy. Yes, he thought, maybe George could live up to his fantasies. Maybe real life would be better than the fantasy. 

**George: I shouldn’t have joked about breakfast being our third date. I apologize. That was very crude of me. I’m counting all of this as one date.**

**George: Wait! That still sounds like I expect sex on our third date. **

**George: I just want to see you again even if we don’t ever have sex. **

**George: I should stop talking. **

**George: I mean I just want to see you again.**

**Alex: txt me whn ur here**

**Alex: & let me do the counting**


	3. Third Date Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to start posting on Mondays and Thursdays. Enjoy!

Instead of making a reservation at one of the fancy breakfast eateries, George made a quick stop for groceries and a plan to fix breakfast at home. Alex had seemed to enjoy it the last time. He did some basic prep, then showered and dressed. When he arrived at John’s apartment, he texted Alex and leaned against the car to wait for him to come down. He didn’t see John and Alex watching him from the window above. 

“Damn, I knew his suit fit him well but I couldn’t tell he had all that underneath.” John noted George’s long, lean legs and muscular arms. “If you really loved me you would share him.” 

“Stop treating your future son-in-law like a piece of meat,” Alex joked. He turned from the window, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys, wallet and cell. “Hey, you want to catch a movie or something later?” 

“Who knows when you’ll be home. I would have thought Mr. High Powered Attorney would be more subtle but, it’s obvious, he is sooo thirsty for you. So, no, I don’t want to make any plans if you’re going to have to break them because he can’t keep his hands off of you.” 

Alex blushed and headed out. He knew John was right. He also knew he wanted George just as much. 

“I can’t cook, though,” Alex complained when he saw what George had planned. 

“No problem. You’ll be the sous-chef. I’ll guide you.” He took a knife from the chopping block and a cutting board from the cabinet and placed them in front of Alex on the counter. He stood behind him, wrapping his strong arms around Alex and taking his slender hands in his own as they sliced and diced the ingredients for their omelets. 

Alex felt physically hot from the closeness of George’s body and the feel of his warm breath on his neck as he gave instructions. He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs trembling and intense concentration was the only thing allowing him to keep a firm grip on the knife. He had a more difficult time trying to keep his erection at bay, so he gave up. He put the knife down and turned in George’s arms. “Kiss me,” he instructed, his voice thick with desire. George wasted no time moving the cutting board out of the way and lifting Alex onto the counter while Alex wrapped his arms around George’s neck and his legs around his waist, locking them in a tight embrace. Each kiss led to another, deeper, more passionate one, until Alex pushed George away slightly. “Tell Alexa to drop us into your bedroom.” 

“That’s not how it works,” George laughed, as he picked Alex up from the counter and carried him up the stairs. 

“You don’t know what you did to me this week with your sexy late night phone calls and texts. I had to jerk off almost every time we spoke. Or maybe you did know. Maybe you wanted me thinking about you being inside me,” he paused. “It made me so hard. I fantasized about you thrusting in and out of me, my cock trapped between our bodies. But now that I’m here with you, I think I want to be inside you, watching you squeeze your eyes shut and squirm while I slide in and out. I know you’re tight; you’re used to being in control. I want to see you let go. I bet you’re like the old-fashioned idea of the librarian, all straight-laced and buttoned up on the outside. A fireball in the bedroom.” Throughout his commentary, Alex had slowly been removing George’s clothes, running his fingers over sensitive areas, kissing those spots whenever he got a reaction. 

George stood there, unable to move, surprised by the direction this had taken. His fantasies had him leading the action and been of all the different ways he would take Alex, slowly and gently the first time, faster and harder as they learned one another’s desires. This, however, was unexpected and it sent a thrill through him. “I should have known you’d be a dirty talker.” 

George’s shaky voice egged Alex further on. He laughed, just a soft breath, and took George in hand. “Oh, look at that. So hard for me already.” He walked George backwards towards the bed and encouraged him down onto the mattress while he got on his knees. He teased George’s balls, cupping and squeezing them gently, teasing the tender area behind them. He took George’s cock in hand again and licked it in one motion from the base to the tip. 

George gasped and gripped the sheets. 

“Oh, you like that? You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He sucked the tip, swirling his tongue around the head before taking the whole shaft into his mouth in one motion. He kept George off balance, varying the speed and pressure, until the muscles in George’s thighs were shaking. He could feel George put one hand in his hair, gripping it as the pressure built, and using the other one to hold himself up so he could watch. Alex hollowed his cheeks and hummed, letting the vibrations bring George to the edge. 

“Alex.” He moved his hand from Alex’s hair and gripped his shoulder. “Alex! Stop! I’m going to come.” 

Alex pulled off. “That’s what I want. He kissed him while he used his hand to pull the orgasm out of him. George moaned loudly into the kiss as he came and he fell backwards onto the bed, breathing heavily. 

Alex stood and removed his clothes. He barely gave George time to recover before he was teasing him again. “George, can you open your eyes? You should watch this.” 

George struggled to pull himself from his post-orgasmic haze and opened his eyes to find Alex taking himself in hand, moving with long, smooth strokes. George reached out to him, desperate to touch him. 

“Scoot back.” Alex helped George reposition himself on the king sized bed. “Where do you keep your stuff?” George reached back and shakily pulled open the nightstand drawer without looking. He couldn’t take his eyes off Alex’s body, his narrow shoulders and lean chest, the defined vee, and mostly, the hard cock jutting out from his body. 

Alex reached for the bottle of lube and squirted a generous amount on his fingers. He reached between George’s legs and circled his hole with a slick finger. “Relax. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He stuck in one finger and began to move it in and out once he felt George get used to the intrusion. He added another finger and scissored them, loosening the tight ring of muscle. By the time he added a third finger, George was hard again. Alex noticed. “I guess we get to feel your cock trapped between us, rubbing against our stomachs. I’m a little jealous. If I known you’d have such excellent refractory, I might have changed positions.” He removed his fingers and kissed George’s abs before rolling a condom onto his own cock and coating it with more lube. He positioned his body between George’s legs and brought one of George’s legs over his shoulder. 

First times can be interesting; fumbling movements, fear of not living up to the anticipation, moving too fast or too slow, having to do the walk of shame the next morning. But George and Alex fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. Their movements were a dance, their moans a song. George knew he wouldn’t last long and he came first, his clenching muscles sending Alex over the edge. They lay there afterwards, George curled into Alex’s embrace, their legs tangled together. 

When George’s breathing had slowly evened out and he finally felt he could put his words together again, he admitted, “I’m used to being in charge, you know. This is not quite how I expected this to go.” 

“I bet. You’ll find I’m full of surprises.” 

“You’re assuming there’ll be more of this.” 

Alex propped himself up on one arm and George turned to face him. “This and more, I hope.” Alex paused briefly before continuing. “Look, I need to be honest with you. I’m not interested in a one night stand. So if we’re just here because you had some kind of porn channel fantasy about banging the gardener, I should leave now.” 

George intertwined their fingers. “Don’t leave.”


	4. Movin' In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic needs a better title. Any ideas?

“George, isn’t this thing moving a little fast?” Despite their divorce, George and Martha had remained close friends. Neither blamed the other for the breakup; they both knew they had simply mistaken their friendship for romantic love. And though the sex was fine, they both knew George’s passions and desires lay elsewhere. He was never unfaithful but Martha wasn’t blind. She saw how he looked at other men and as much as he loved her, he would never look at her that way. “You’ve known him, what, a month? And he’s already moving in?” 

He poured the coffee and placed a mug on the table in front her but leaned against the counter with his own. “I know it seems sudden but it feels right. And it’s definitely not a ‘thing.’ I think I’ve been around long enough to know it’s not lust or infatuation.” He took a long sip. “If I had been able to talk him into moving in after our first date, I would have, but he needed to convince himself I wanted a relationship and not just a fling. I think he also wanted to make sure I understood his need for independence. Even now, he wants to keep one of his jobs, some complaint about me being a sugar daddy and him being a kept man.” 

“I’m sure you’ll try to talk him out of that. I remember how you were in school. If you’d had to work at the same time, I don’t think you ever would have slept. You barely slept anyway.” 

“He’ll be working in the library, so he can probably get some studying done at the same time but it’s funny you should say that. He really is nonstop; school, work, friends. Did I tell you he has a gardening blog? Bulbs and perennials, mostly. He has a decent following. He sketched out a new bed for the back lawn, you know, in that area curving out from the veranda. He seems to have a specific flower in mind for the center but it’s going to take some research to find it. It would be nice if I could cultivate one for him. The Alexander Lily. The Alexander Rose?” 

“It’s nice that you have something else in common.” 

George continued, not really listening to her response and missing the sarcasm. “I don’t want him to burn himself out. He has so much potential. And he definitely has it more together than I did at his age.” 

“Just be careful, dearest. Be sensible and let the right head lead you.” 

“I’m pretty sure the other one is almost worn out,” he joked. He watched as Martha squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shake away that image. “It’s funny. He makes me feel like an old man and a young man all at once.” 

“Does he know you love him?” 

“I’m not even sure I know it. I’ve had relationships since you and I broke up; some good, some just okay. You even helped me work through them when they were bad. I know in my heart this is different.” 

“George,” she got up to put her cup in the sink and stood directly in front of him, “Alex is a lucky man. I hope he knows it.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Let me know when I can meet the man who stole your heart.” 

“Just make sure he knows I will end him if he hurts you.” 

John sat on the arm of the sofa while Alex put his most important items in his backpack. The few small boxes of books and heavier items were stacked by the door, waiting for George to arrive to take them home. Home, Alex thought. George’s home was about to become his home. 

“He knows. Believe me; you make it clear every time he comes over. I wish you could let down your guard. You might like him.” 

John’s expression remained neutral. He and George had continued to do a cautious dance around one another, both jockeying for Alex’s time and affections but each knowing that alienating the other could end their relationship. 

“I told him about us, you know.” 

John looked at his hands and picked at the flakes of paint on his fingernails. Their breakup had been his fault. 

“I told him everything. I think I could love him and I want to start our relationship with honesty. I’m here with you now because I realized I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than not at all. But, John, you have to know we have zero change of rekindling what we had. You hurt me and I forgave you. You need to forgive yourself.” Alex touched his face and wiped it when he realized it was wet with tears. “Wish me well. Wish us well. Okay?” 

“I’ll try. I promise. Please. Just don’t cut me off. I’m not trying to get between the two of you. I just never stopped loving you and I’m wondering if there’s still room somewhere in your heart for me. ” 

Alex lifted John’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “I love you, John. You are my best friend. I will always have time for you. He wants to be friends with you,” he said after a moment. “I’d like that, too.” 

“Maybe later.” They both knew ‘later’ was code for ‘when I’m over you.’ John thought it probably meant ‘never.’ Alex was more hopeful. The knock at the door saved them from having to acknowledge it at all. 

The two men made a lot of adjustments in a very short period. George got used to living with someone again and realized how lonely and empty his house had been. He had missed having someone worry about him if he got home late. Or be excited to see him if they had been separated. He made closet and drawer space for Alex, though he didn’t have much, and they negotiated who got which side of the bed. They cooked together at the end of the day and enjoyed spending quiet evenings in the office while George worked and Alex studied. 

Alex learned he could truly depend on someone other than himself. Once his mother died, had that ever been the case? He lived with a family on the island for awhile, then with a cousin until he also died. Alex had done his best to survive, working full time and teaching himself with the books he carried with him every time he moved. 

Snuggling together seemed to be when they were most open with their feelings, when they learned more about one another. And Alex remembered how much better sex could be when it was part of a relationship. He hadn’t had that since John. 

The only decision they could make about George’s gun was that it would stay in the safe at his office. 

“Close your eyes,” George said while they were lying in bed the night before Alex was scheduled to begin classes. He reached under the bed, pulled out a large carefully wrapped box and placed it on Alex’s lap. “You can open them now. I thought you needed a gift for the start of the semester.” 

Alex hesitated, trying to decide if he should open the package carefully or tear the professional wrapping off quickly the way he wanted to. Of course, he tore it open and tossed the tissue paper to the side, finding a new backpack inside. There was nothing special about it, except that George had noticed the condition of his old one and filled the need. 

“Thank you, George. You spoil me. You already bought me a new computer.” 

“I know. But I can afford it and you needed one. Go ahead. Open it.” Alex lifted the flap it and found his name and the words _‘Future Lawyer' _embroidered in fancy script. “It’s got an insulated pocket for your water and snacks. Keep it filled,” George laughed. “I know how you forget to eat.” 

“Yes, sir.” Alex gave a small salute. 

“There should be something else inside.” 

Alex peered further into the bag and pulled out a new leather journal. 

“Try not to fill it up in your first class.” 

“No, I don’t think I’ll use this one for class notes. It’s too beautiful.” He rubbed the soft leather once more before putting the box aside and telling Alexa to turn off the light. “I think I know a good way to show my appreciation.” 

Alex settled himself onto George’s lap. The moonlight captured his face and body in relief, highlighting his cheek and collarbones, and giving him an ethereal, almost angelic look. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, exposing his neck and throat, as he worked George over in increments, setting a slow pace and causing George to pant and gasp. 

“Alex. More.” George pressed his hips upwards, trying to match Alex’s downward motion. They moved together, faster, harder, until his orgasm rushed through him. He used one hand to hold Alex close and the other to bring him to climax before flopping back onto the bed and wiping the sweat from his brow. “If that’s how you say thank you, I might have to buy you a present every day.” 

Alex woke before the alarm; he had slept surprisingly well, comfortable in George’s arms, but he was still looking forward to his first class. He had finished all of the reading well in advance and set up his notebooks in the Cornell Method he preferred. He kissed George lightly on the forehead and headed for the shower. He had just squirted the shampoo into his hand when the curtain opened and George stepped into the shower behind him. 

George moved the shampoo to his own hand and massaged it into Alex’s hair. Alex leaned into his touch. “Excited?” 

“Yes.” Alex crooked an eyebrow; George’s morning wood pressed into him. “You, too, it seems.” 

“Ignore that,” George laughed. “You know what I mean.” 

He stood there for a moment, enjoying the feel of George’s hands massaging his scalp, before turning to face George and putting his arms around his waist. He leaned his head back into the spray and allowed George to rinse the suds from his hair, then handed him to conditioner to repeat the process. 

“You can’t even imagine,” he finally answered. “I’ve been working towards this for so long. Some days were such a struggle, I didn’t think I’d ever make it. And now I’m here. Me, a poor orphan. A law student.” 

“You deserve it. Now kiss me. Then go blow them all away.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton drew a sketch for the garden at Hamilton Grange that included a space for unnamed bulbs. Researchers guess he had a specific bulb in mind but either didn't know or couldn't remember the name.


	5. What'd I Miss?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson's a dick. Martha's not.

Alex smiled at the photo he had just printed at the kiosk in the library and slipped it into his journal before heading to his Constitutional Law class. He thought he’d arrived early enough to have his choice of seats. He was wrong. The seat he wanted, front row center, had a large coffee drink, foam included, on the desk and a lightweight purple coat draped across the back of the seat. While he stood there trying to figure out a sly way to move them both to the next desk, the owner returned and caught him staring. 

“You weren’t about to take my seat, were you?” 

“I don’t see your name on it but no. Honestly, I was wondering who would desecrate coffee that way AND wear such a hideous coat.” 

“Coffee is the favorite drink of the civilized world. I like it in all forms. As for my coat,” he looked Alex over, “there’s something to be said for taste.” 

“Now I wish I had taken your seat.” 

“That would have been a very bad first impression, especially since you might need my notes one day.” 

Alex bristled at that since he prided himself on being the smartest in the room. “Why would I need your notes?” 

“I’m just saying you wouldn’t want to alienate the star pupil on the first day of class.” 

“And you already know you are the star pupil,” Alex put air quotes around the words, “because? Oh, I know. Because you’re old enough to be a father to half the students here?” 

“Because I was my high school’s valedictorian and graduated magna cum laude from The College of William and Mary. There’s no reason this should be any different. Besides, I have life experience to add to my already impressive brains. I was probably already working for the government in Paris before you even learned to write in cursive.” 

Alex responded by rolling his eyes and taking a seat on the second row instead; the raised lecture hall style would still give him a clear view of the professor and the professor a clear view of him, despite the jerk’s inflated ego and big hair. His mood improved when he opened his bag and saw the embroidery again. 

“Nice backpack,” the jerk said. He had been watching Alex get settled and smirked when he saw the writing. “Does your mommy put your name in your clothes, too?” 

Alex gave him the finger. 

The jerk, or Thomas Jefferson, as Alex learned when the professor began the class by rearranging their seats in alphabetical order, was partially correct about his abilities. He was smart in the sense he had completed and understood all of the reading, unlike many of the other students who stumbled over their answers. But his interpretation of the law was, in Alex’s opinion, just wrong. He was going to be disappointed when he found himself to be only second best in this class. Just for giggles, Alex made a checkmark in his notebook every time he managed to raise his hand before Jefferson and a star every time the professor complimented his answer. At the end of the class, he tore out the page, scribbled something in the margin, and placed it on Jefferson’s desk. _Better luck next time_, it said. This time Jefferson gave Alex the finger. 

George sat at the island looking through the mail, the glasses perched on his nose making him look even sexier than he had in the shower that morning. He looked up when he saw Alex in the doorway and turned on the barstool, opening his legs and making a space for Alex to come close. “How was your first day of classes?” 

It had been a busy day and Alex yawned as he crossed the room to accept the invitation. He kissed George, then rested his face on his chest for a moment. “It was fine but there was this obnoxious old dude-” He looked up at George and realized Jefferson probably wasn’t even as old as him. “Sorry. Anyway, he wanted to argue about everything. And he was so wrong. About everything! He kept talking about how agrarian societies were best and compared everything to how they did things in Paris, which wasn’t even relevant to the topic. He was just showing off.” 

“Oh, you met Jefferson,” George laughed. 

“Wait, you know him?” 

“Yes, he’s also from Virginia. He looked me up about ten years ago when he moved here and needed someone to show him around. He somehow ended up with an administrative position in the State Department and moved up pretty quickly. I lost track of him after awhile, but I heard he recently finished some kind of diplomatic posting in France and was coming back here to attend law school.” 

“Yeah, well, he’s a jerk.” He tried to push down the feeling of embarrassment he had when Jefferson had made fun of his backpack. He didn’t mind when people underestimated his intelligence; he could easily prove them wrong. But he hated when people made of the way he looked or dressed. It always took him back to his childhood, when the other kids joked about his hand-me-down clothes. He swore he would never again be judged because he didn’t have the latest fashions. He learned which thrift stores and consignment shops had the best prices and the highest quality merchandise, including the small sewing machine he used to tailor the items to a perfect fit. And except for when he was working for the lawn service, he never left home without being perfectly coiffed. Some people thought he was vain. That, for some reason, didn’t bother him. 

“I agree. But he is pretty smart. He might be worth partnering with in class. And he comes from a prominent family.” 

“Whatever. What’s for dinner?” 

George laughed as he went to the counter to plate their meal. 

“Martha wants to meet you. She’s invited us for lunch this weekend. What do you think?” 

“It’s fine. I’ve got a study group Saturday morning but I should be back by noon, if that works.” He chewed his food thoughtfully. “Maybe she can give me some tips.” 

“Tips on wh-” He stopped when he caught Alex’s sly expression. “Do you ever think of anything other than sex?” 

“You know I do. But when you’re sitting there looking like that, it’s hard not to let my imagination run wild.” 

“You’re a pervert.” 

“A pervert is someone whose sexual behavior is regarded as abnormal and unacceptable. So unless it also applies to you, maybe choose another description.” 

“Sex fiend? Nymphomaniac?” 

“I’ll accept either of those as long as it’s with you.” 

“No, those aren’t quite right, either.” George raised a brow. “I think we should go upstairs and see if we can find the right word.” 

“Why you dirty old man.” 

“You love it.” And I love you, he thought. 

“I do.” Alex took his hand and led the way. 

Saturday came quickly. Alex had been assigned to a study group with Aaron Burr, who had ended up in the coveted front row center seat. He was smart, but the man just would not pick a side. “Everything has two sides,” he had said when Alex confronted him after class about his lack of opinions. They were joined by a relatively quiet Ben Tallmadge, who sat a few rows back, and the quick-witted and, frankly, a little frightening Angelica Schuyler. They made a good foursome. 

Alex met George in the cell phone lot nearest the library afterwards and filled him in on the morning while they drove to Martha’s house for lunch. “We decided Saturday mornings probably aren’t the best time to meet, though. I want to sleep late with my handsome boyfriend and Angelica said that’s the only time she gets to see her sisters these days. Burr and Tallmadge didn’t say what they needed to do but they both looked like they were hiding something. I might have to do a little sleuthing.” 

“Alex. First, let them have their privacy. And second, don’t tell your classmates that you can’t study because you want to fuck around with your boyfriend all morning.” 

“Why not? When they meet you, they’ll understand. I was watching when you got out of the shower this morning and whatever you’re doing at the gym, it’s working. Maybe I should go with you and work on my little pooch.” 

“You’re welcome to come with me whenever you want but I like your pooch. It fits perfectly in my hand when you let me be the big spoon.” 

“‘Let’ you be the big spoon. That’s hilarious. Anyway, if I can just find away to avoid Jefferson outside of class…” 

“Um, about that.” 

“What. Did. You. Do?” 

“Jefferson called to say he was back in the area and wanted to reconnect. Our schedules are both pretty busy, but we agreed to meet for drinks tonight at the club. I told him I was bringing my boyfriend.” He held up his hand to stop Alex before he could object to the label. “I know. I don’t know what else to call you; my lover? We’re more than that, aren’t we?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject. You know that’s not the issue. I can’t believe you’d spring this on me. I already spend enough time with that prick. Now I have to share you with him?” 

“Two hours. Max. And despite how he might behave in class, I doubt he’ll act like an ass in front of me.” 

“You don’t know him as well as you think. And he’s not acting like an ass. He is an ass.” Alex pouted for a split second before his face lit up. “Wait. Did you tell him my name?” 

“No. Why?” 

“Because this could be fun after all.” 

“Martha shares our love of flowers, I see.” Alex admired the neat and colorful beds, their colors offset by the deep brown mulch and the white picket fence. “Maybe I should have brought her some bulbs or something.” 

“She specifically said for us not to bring anything. She didn’t want you rushing around after your study group. We’re just going to have a leisurely lunch and you two can get to know one another, okay?” He rang the bell and could hear barking behind the door. 

“I’m coming. Just let me let the dogs out.” When Martha opened the door, Alex immediately realized George had a type: slender figures, long dark hair, bright knowing eyes. Martha must have seen it, too, because she looked at him, then they both looked at George and laughed.

“What?” he asked. 

“Nothing. Hello, George,” she said as she kissed him in greeting. She took Alex’s hand. “Alex, it’s nice to meet you. Come on in. I hope you brought your appetite.” 

“I did. George says you taught him to cook and the idea of someone being a better cook than him has been pretty enticing. And it’s nice meeting you, as well.” 

Lunch was delicious and the conversation flowed easily. Alex thought of how John, his friend and ex, acted towards George. Martha was in the same position, friend and ex, yet her behavior could not have been more different. She told cute stories about George and shared some of their old photos. He had been worried about her accepting him; he was poor and young and just starting out but still she made him feel welcomed. When George excused himself to use the rest room, he pulled out the leather journal. 

“George gave me this to take notes for class but I wanted to use it for our memories.” He opened it to the first page and showed her the picture of them at the restaurant. “Our first date. I hope to add more memories.” There were notes on several other pages, mostly doodles and little poems, and all seemed to be about George. 

Martha patted his hand. 

Alex had to rush to put the journal away when George came back. George noticed the hurried motion. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing, dearest,” they said in unison, before looking at one another and laughing. They parted ways with full stomachs and plans to get together again, this time at George and Alex’s home. 

The second date of the day could not have been more opposite. When George saw Jefferson enter the club, he stood and gestured in greeting. Alex remained seated with his back to the door, not his usual preference, but he had a reason. 

Jefferson responded in kind and walked towards the table, admiring Alexander’s lustrous, shoulder length hair from behind. If the face and body matched, he’d have to compliment the old guy on his catch. “George, it’s so nice to see you again.” He held out his hand. “You look like life has been treating you well.” 

“Yes, yes it has. You look well, too, Thomas.” He released Jefferson’s hand and gestured lovingly towards Alex. “This is my boyfriend, Alexander Hamilton.” 

Alex remained seated and flashed his most dazzling smile. It almost reached his eyes and only his closest friends would be able to tell it wasn’t sincere. He tried to contain the childish glee he felt when Jefferson’s eyes landed on him. “Jefferson. How nice to see you again.” 

“Hamilton. This is quite a surprise.” He turned to face George. “Hamilton and I have a few classes together, but I’m sure you knew that. Curious you didn’t mention his name when you said you’d be bringing your boyfriend.” He let his eyes drift between the two men. “I never would have thought of Hamilton when you mentioned your beau. He doesn’t strike me as your type.” 

“Oh? Why is that?” George’s back straightened and his eyes darkened. Alex had heard about George’s legendary temper, that his words and demeanor could reduce grown men to tears. He hadn’t observed it in person; even when they disagreed, George never raised his voice or made him feel his opinion didn’t matter. So this George Washington was a surprise. 

Jefferson apparently didn’t notice the change and continued talking, digging himself deeper into a hole. “Well, for one thing,” he gestured to Alex, “he’s him. He’s loud, full of wrong opinions, young, disrespectful to his elders. He’s smart, I’ll give you that, but I would have expected you to have better taste.” 

“Thomas, you know I am not a violent man but you will not stand here and insult Alexander. In a different era, this would end on the dueling grounds. And while for many back then, being brave enough to show up would have satisfied the challenge, my goal would, in fact, be to kill you. How dare you take advantage of my connections and knowledge, and then be so disrespectful.” 

Jefferson tried to interrupt. 

“Unless your next words are an apology, you’d better close your mouth.” He’d managed to keep his voice low and he was relieved to see they hadn’t caused a commotion. He exhaled and unclenched the fists he hadn’t realized he’d been making. 

Jefferson did notice that and tried to backtrack. “Calm down, George. Hamilton and I spar all the time. I didn’t mean anything by it. If an apology means we can get back to being adults and have a civilized drink, I apologize.” He turned to flag down a waiter and tried to pull out his chair, only to be stopped by George’s hand. 

“You insult both of us, and then expect us to sit down as friends? Absolutely not. In fact, you should leave. Stay away from me and stop “sparring” with Alexander. If I find out you’ve dipped his hair in the inkwell, stolen his pencil, tied his shoelaces together, or performed any other juvenile prank you have in mind to get back at me, you will regret it. Do you understand?” 

“It is not in your best interest to threaten me, George. But, sure, I’ll leave. See you in class, Hamilton. Don’t forget your little backpack.” He turned and walked away, his hideous purple coat flaring out behind him. 

Alex cleared his throat and took George’s hand as he finally rose from his seat. “George, I know this is totally inappropriate but,” he leaned forward whispered in George’s ear, “that was hot.” Their proximity allowed George’s scent to surround him and he felt as though his knees would buckle. “We need to leave. Now.” 

George looked at him in surprise but took his hand and led him from the lounge. “If that turned you on, we need to have a talk.” 

“Yes, dad.” 

“I prefer daddy,” he laughed, and some of the anger and stress finally started to ebb from his system. “Big Daddy is even better.” 

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. But for now” he nodded towards his crotch and the bulge growing in his form-fitting pants, “we either need to head for the bathroom or I need to know how fast you can get us home.” 

Pretty fast, as it turned out and by the time they pulled into the garage, Alex had stripped completely. He ran up the stairs, George on his heels, leaving his own clothes in a trail behind them. 

It took some time for them to get to their talk. “I’m sorry, George.” He traced light circles on George’s torso as he spoke. “I thought Jefferson would see me, be surprised and make some snarky comment about competing with me in class. We’d all have a laugh and that’d be it. I had no idea he’d go all the way off.” 

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault. Thomas has always thought his family’s money and reputation made him better than everyone else. If anything, I should apologize to you for behaving that way. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. But, Alex, I told you he has connections. It might not be smart to alienate him.” 

“Alienate him how? By not telling him we had a friend in common? That’s not a crime. We’re simply students in the same classes. He doesn’t have any control over my grade.” 

“Just watch out. He’s definitely the type to retaliate if he feels he’s been wronged or humiliated somehow.”


	6. Something's Fishy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's trouble in the air.

George learned just how right he was when he opened his calendar Monday morning and found a meeting request from the law school president. He clicked ‘accept.’ 

“Hello, John.” George greeted President Jay warmly. “How’s Sarah? Well, I hope. We need to get together soon.”

“I agree. It’s been far too long.” He showed George to a sitting area away from his desk and gestured for him to make himself comfortable. “Coffee?” He poured cups for both of them from the antique set on the table and allowed George to add cream and sugar to his own before continuing. “You’re probably wondering why I called you here and so formally, at that.”

“I was.”

“We received an anonymous complaint for you to be fired for threatening a student. We’re not acting on it, of course, but I wanted to let you know you should be careful. Think about who might have a reason to tarnish your name. Allegations such as this can ruin a man’s career and you’ve worked too hard to get where you are.”

He didn’t have to think about who might have it out for him. He only needed to find a solution. “Thanks, John. I appreciate the warning.”

John had just arrived at the coffee shop and found a quiet table in the corner when Alex came skidding through the doorway. He stood and waved him over. “Hey. It’s been awhile. I feel like I never see you anymore.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s taken me awhile to get into a routine. Law school is a whole different animal than undergrad. I feel like it definitely takes more of my time. Even George is complaining.” He watched John’s smile dim at the mention of George’s name, just a tiny bit. Only a close friend would have noticed the slight downward turn at the corners of his mouth. He reached for his hand, “I can manage a conversation without mentioning him. I promise.”

“It’s fine. I know how it is when you’re in love.” He almost kept the bitterness out of his voice.

“What can I get you?” Alex stood and pulled a few bills from his wallet. “My treat. They still let me use my employee discount here. I think they’re hoping I’ll come back.”

“The usual.”

That brought a smile to Alex’s face. “Old times. Be right back.”

“So let me tell you what happened a few weeks ago and, I’m sorry, it does involve George.” He waited for John to give him a signal to continue.

“It’s okay. Go ahead.”

“Okay, so George knows that jerk I told you about, Thomas Jefferson; old family money knowing other old family money and all that. Anyway, he agreed to meet Jefferson for drinks and told him he would bring his boyfriend but didn’t mention my name. I’m still wondering why he did that but it worked for me, gave me a chance to see his surprised face. So Jefferson rolls up, all suave and uppity, and when he sees me, he starts telling George how he could do better, how I wasn’t up to his standards. George was livid! If we had been somewhere more private, I bet he would have cleaned his clock.”

“So what happened?”

“George kinda threatened to kill him and told him to leave. He left but I could see he wasn’t happy about it, and then I got a big lecture from George about not antagonizing him, yada yada. I’ve toned back a little but it’s hard. He’s so annoying.”

“He doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who would just let something like that go.”

“I don’t think he did. A few days later George got called to the president’s office; I told you he teaches an upper level class, right, and finds out someone made a complaint about him threatening a student. They didn’t do anything since it was anonymous but we both know it was Jefferson trying to get back at him. Can you believe that guy? I wish I could think of a way to get back at him but George wants me to stay out of it.”

“That’s probably smart. You don’t want him trying to do anything to you.” 

“What happened to you?” Alex took in the bruise under Jefferson’s eye and the cast on his right wrist. “Looks like you might be the one who needs my notes.”

“Fuck off, Hamilton. I’ve got this covered. He placed his phone on the corner of his desk and opened it to the voice recording app. His personal assistant would transcribe the notes later.

“No, seriously. What does the other guy look like?”

He looked fine, Jefferson thought. The other guy had walked away without a scratch. Jefferson could easily have described him to the police if he hadn’t been warned to keep quiet. The man had come up behind him in the parking lot of his condo and slammed his face into the side of the car. At first he thought it was a robbery but the guy just whispered in his ear, “Leave Washington and Hamilton alone.” The broken wrist was meant as a reminder, just in case looking at his black eye in the mirror wasn’t enough. 

“There was no other guy. I had a riding accident. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand. Did they even have horses wherever it was you grew up?”

“Fine, Jefferson. I was just trying to be friendly.”

Jefferson didn’t speak to him or look in his direction for the rest of the class or any time they saw one another the rest of the week.

“I have a friend who works for campus police,” Tallmadge told the study group when they next met. “He thinks Jefferson’s not telling the truth about what happened.”

“What does he think happened?” Alex and Angelica both leaned forward to get the details; Aaron leaned back in his chair and pretended he was too good to listen to their gossip.

“Well, he’s a friend of the one of the security officers in Jefferson’s building; you know how those law enforcement types hang out together and share stories. Anyway, one of the tenants reported hearing someone scream when he was headed to his car a few nights ago. He got out of there and went right to the lobby; I think he was too scared to call the police from the garage. When the guard went to check it out, he saw Jefferson holding his arm and talking to someone near his car. It seemed like a tense situation, so he started walking over to see if he needed any help but Jefferson waved him off and the man walked away. He logged it in and almost forgot about it until Jefferson came in a few hours later with his arm in a cast.

“He never reported anything?” Alex led the questioning like the lawyer he hoped to be one day.

“No. But my friend’s friend said he looked back at the video of Jefferson getting off the elevator and heading to his car and his arm was fine. Something happened down there. They put an extra guard on duty just to do rounds in the garage but nothing.”

“That’s weird. Jefferson doesn’t seem like the type to keep something like that quiet.”

“Can we get back to the People v Weeks, please?” Aaron seemed irritated that they had wasted so many minutes of study time on something Jefferson clearly didn’t want anyone to know. “He told us what happened. If it’s not true, that’s his business, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson dislocated his right wrist in 1786. Two surgeons set the bones but he reportedly suffered wrist pain for the rest of his life. His secretary wrote his letters for him and he used his left hand to write for several months. He loved coffee.
> 
> The trial of Levi Weeks was the first murder trial in the US where there was a formal record. His attorneys? Henry Brockhurst Livingston, Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton.


	7. At Last (My Love Has Come Along)

On Sunday nights before bed, George and Alex went through their calendars to coordinate their weeks. Alex’s schedule varied little: classes, library work hours, study group. George’s depended more on which cases were moving to court. On the first Sunday in November, George turned a few weeks ahead in his planner. “How would you feel about a little vacation for Thanksgiving? I checked the calendar and classes end on Tuesday that week. I can close the office early and we can head out Tuesday night or Wednesday morning.” 

“Tuesday night. Let’s get as much vacation as we can. Where did you have in mind?” 

“Someplace warm, maybe a beach before it gets too cold. Or maybe Mount Vernon. You haven’t seen it yet.” 

“I thought Martha used it at Thanksgiving.” 

“She does usually but this year she’s visiting a friend out of town, so it’s ours if we want it.” 

“If you’re sure. I know you have a lot of family memories there. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

“You’re my family, Alex. Surely you know that by now.” He took Alex’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. 

Alex felt a tug in his heart and pulled George into a kiss while he gathered himself. “If we’re going to fly, we’re probably already too late to get reasonable seats.” 

“I’ll take care of the flights. You just make sure you finish your work before we go. I want you to relax and not worry about classes the whole time we’re gone.”

The next few weeks were busy; Alex read ahead and finished his reports well in advance of their due dates. Yet he still found time to have the occasional coffee with John. He thought having a regular time to get together would allow their relationship, and conversations, to get back to the way they were before things went sour, easygoing and full of inside jokes. 

“How did things work out with Jefferson?” John asked casually the next time he and Alex met. 

“It’s strange. He showed up in class awhile ago with his arm in a cast and a black eye. He got all huffy with me when I asked what happened and hasn’t spoken to me since. I mean, he acted like I had something to do with it.” 

“Hm, that is strange,” John said as he raised his cup and smiled into his coffee. 

“George, the car is here.” Alex met the driver at the door and helped him take their bags to the car. They had packed lightly, a rollaboard each, a messenger bag for George and a laptop bag for Alex. 

“I’m coming. I’m just making sure we have everything.” He jogged down the stairs and locked the door behind them. “I have this recurring nightmare where I get to the airport and I don’t have my ID. The line behind me keeps getting longer and longer and this group of burly TSA agents starts coming towards me, slapping some kind of clubs in their hands. Just before they reach me, I wake up.” 

Alex patted his pocket for his wallet. “Now you’ve got me worrying,” he laughed. “Hey, it’s a nonstop flight. Let’s check our bags instead of rolling them around the airport.” 

“That’s fine. Less to worry about. And I’d get to hold your hand instead of a suitcase.” 

Traffic to JFK was horrendous; it seemed everyone had the same idea to get out of the city for the long holiday weekend. But with CLEAR and TSA Precheck, they cleared security in no time. George placed a hand on Alex’s lower back and guided him to the entrance of the lounge. “Let’s have a drink while we wait for boarding.” 

Alex’s airport experiences had obviously been vastly different than George’s. He usually sat at the gate, as close as possible to a charging station, and watched the first class and priority passengers board, knowing there’d probably be no space in the overhead bin for his backpack and he’d have to squash it under the seat in front of him. He’d seen signs for the various lounges and wondered what went on behind the frosted glass. This trip, though, not only included lounge access, but all the amenities that came with a first class fare. 

“Cheers, Alex. I’m going to get an early start on what I would have said at dinner on Thanksgiving. This year I’m thankful for meeting you. At the risk of sounding corny, I need to tell you; you’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Maybe ever.” 

“I feel the same. To us.” Alex clinked their glasses together and noticed how much smaller the bubbles were than in the cheap champagne he and his college friends had used in their mimosas when they were trying to be adult and classy. He sipped and tasted subtle fruit flavors instead of just alcohol. “I know I keep saying it, but you spoil me.” 

“And I keep telling you how much you deserve it. Whatever I have to offer is yours. Enjoy it.” His lips met George’s with a kiss and they both smiled. 

“You know, that first night when I was in your guest room, I was a little nervous. I mean, who puts a stranger in his bed? That’s the kind of thing you see in a bad Lifetime movie. The pills on the nightstand would be some kind of sedative and I’d wake up the next morning naked and chained to a pole in your basement.” 

“I thought about that, too. Well, not the ‘chained to pole in the basement’ part, but about how that night required trust on both our parts. I tried to make you feel safer by showing that you could lock the door.” 

“I’m pretty sure you could have gotten in anyway. But thanks for that. It did make me more comfortable. And there was something about your voice. Maybe it was because I was half-asleep but it made me feel safe. I know that sounds crazy.” 

They sat there in their little cocoon, watching planes taxi to the gates outside the window and sneaking looks at one another over their books, until George broke the comfortable silence. “Oh, I almost forgot. I decided not to rent a car, so look out for a sign with my name when we land. I can’t think of where we’d need to drive, unless you want to do some Black Friday shopping.” 

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to get trampled over a discount television. I’d rather stay in bed and have leftovers with you.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be tired of both by Sunday.” 

“Never,” Alex smiled. 

The flight was smooth and short, less than two hours from gate to gate, and Washington National Airport, Alex refused to call it by its new name, was efficiently arranged. Their luggage and ride seemed only steps from the gate and George pointed out historical sites on the short, tree lined route to Mount Vernon. 

“Can you see that fort?” He pointed to the stone structure across the river. “It’s named after one of my ancestors. It was built primarily to defend the Potomac River approach to DC but its biggest claim to fame might be that it was blown up by its own garrison when the captain in command decided he and his men were no match for the British.” 

Alex laughed. “I bet someone got court-martialed over that.” 

George nodded in agreement. When my brother and I would play pirates, we always imagined that fort had been put there just to protect our house and land. Mount Vernon has been in my family since the 1700s, so the timing would have been right. I keep thinking I should sell it; it’s expensive to maintain and I don’t get to use it enough, not to mention my family’s history of stealing land from Native Americans and slaveholding. But when I’m here, I feel as though I’m finally home.” 

The red roof of the main house came into view as they got closer. The gardens surrounding it were not in bloom but Alex could see and admire the intricate patterns. “I can see why. It’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me.” 

The driver pulled close to the entrance and retrieved their bags from the trunk. George helped Alex from the car and teasingly asked, “Would you like me to carry you over the threshold since it’s your first time here?” 

“No, let’s save that for our honeymoon,” Alex joked. 

George thought of the ring box hidden in his toiletry bag and hoped it would be sooner than Alex thought. 

William, the property caretaker, had made sure everything was prepared; the kitchen was fully stocked with breakfast staples and snacks for the weekend, a Thanksgiving dinner had been ordered and would be delivered hot Thursday afternoon, and the wood for the bedroom fireplace had been stacked neatly. George only needed to strike a match for the fire to roar to life. 

“I’ll show you around tomorrow but the kitchen is through that arch. There should be a tray of food and more champagne in the refrigerator. If you can bring them to the room at the top of the stairs, I’ll meet you there.” 

The kitchen was surprisingly modern for a house so old. Alex could imagine George carefully overseeing the renovations before whipping up gourmet meals for his guests and holding court in the large dining room. By the time Alex found everything and made his way upstairs, George had lowered the lights, changed into his bathrobe and had run a bath in the biggest tub Alex had ever seen. He took the tray from Alex and placed everything on a small table he had set up near the tub. 

“I was hoping you’d join me,” he said as he dropped his robe and stepped into the bubbles. “I think I remember you saying something once about enjoying a bath at my house.

Alex stripped off his clothes in record time and joined him in the warm water, pressing his back into George’s front and pulling George’s arms around him. He could feel his muscles relaxing and he leaned his head into the curve of George’s shoulder. “This was a good idea.” 

They ate from the platter William had prepared: sliced meat and cheese, fruit and pickled vegetables, butter and savory spreads for the crusty bread. 

“Alex, do you remember telling me how you were nervous about how you looked when we went on our first date, how you kept changing clothes and tried to make your hair perfect?” He felt Alex’s head nod against his chest and heard a soft yes. “Well, you looked so handsome that night, it almost took my breath away. But I’ve also seen you sick and injured, in your rattiest clothes, and with huge bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. I’ve smelled your sweat after you’ve gone running and seen you covered in dirt after working in the gardens. And you know what? I’ve had the same butterflies every time. When you come home at the end of the day and kiss me hello, I-I can’t even describe how happy it makes me. Knowing you chose me.” 

Water splashed over the side of the tub as Alex turned around to wrap his legs around George’s waist. He thought he knew what was coming and wanted to look into George’s eyes. 

“Are you finished interrupting my romantic speech?” George laughed. 

“Yes. Sorry. Please continue.” Alex looped his arms over George’s shoulders. This is it, he thought; the moment he’d been waiting for. Waiting because he was afraid to say it first, afraid George might not feel the same. He hoped George couldn’t feel his heart pounding or notice his uneven breaths. 

“I love you,” George said. His voice cracked but there it was. Finally out in the open. Time seemed to stand still and George panicked as the seconds ticked by and Alex hadn’t responded. Then he felt Alex’s lips on his. 

“I love you, too. Why was I so afraid to tell you?” 

“The same reason I was, probably. It doesn’t matter anymore. Now we can say it as much as we want. Like this. I love you, I love you I love you-”

Alex placed a finger on his lips. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Their lovemaking that night held a newness and tenderness, their slow and easy kissing reminiscent of their date on the beach. They clung together for what seemed like hours, until they were both spent and falling asleep in one another’s arms. 

“I want to show you something,” Alex said, nudging George awake. He extricated himself from George’s embrace and, realizing his luggage had never made it upstairs, wrapped himself in the fluffy robe that had been laid out over the chair for him and went downstairs for his journal. When he returned, George had stoked the fire and the room had regained its warmth and coziness. He crawled back into bed and snuggled under George’s arm. “I showed this to Martha that first time we went to her house for lunch. I wanted her to know how I felt about you, that this wasn’t casual. I didn’t have much in it at the time but it was enough to convince her, I think. That’s what we were talking about when you came back from the bathroom. I wasn’t ready for you to see it but now maybe you can add to it.” 

George turned the pages slowly, reading the short love poems, admiring how happy they looked in the photos. “That explains her sudden trip. I wonder if she even went anywhere; she hates to fly. But when I told her I wanted to go somewhere special with you, that I had something to tell you, she suggested Mouth Vernon. I’m glad you chose it over the beach.” 

“Wait. You’ve known for weeks that you loved me? I can’t believe it didn’t slip out by accident. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I almost slipped.” 

“If you only knew.” The ring popped into his head again. Was this the right time to bring it out? No, maybe not. They needed to bask in this step for awhile. “Where’s your phone? We need to capture this moment, too.” 

Alex framed the shot and counted, “One, two, three.” Just as he pressed the shutter-release button, George kissed him. He turned in surprise and kissed him back, his finger still on the button, creating a burst of photos. This might need more than one page in his journal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> William "Billy" Lee was George Washington's personal assistant and the only one of Washington's slaves freed immediately by Washington in his will.
> 
> The view of the Potomac River from Fort Washington is beautiful. If you look closely, you can see the red roof of the main house at Mount Vernon. The story of it being destroyed by its own garrison is true.


	8. Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Angst. Fluff.

“How’s your horsemanship?” 

“I haven’t been on a horse since I was a kid and it was probably technically a pony.” George caught him petting and whispering to a Bay in the corner stall. 

“That’s Peacock. I think she likes you.” 

“She’s beautiful.” 

“I’ve got a good saddle for a new rider. I’ll get you set up on her in a minute. You two keep getting to know one another.” He finished brushing Blueskin and headed over to Nelson. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his boys and made a silent promise to visit them again soon. When he finished, he fitted Alex for a helmet and saddle, and gave him a quick lesson before they moved out slowly towards the meadow. They rode as close together as comfortable for the horses and George kept one hand ready to grab Peacock’s reins, if necessary, but Alex caught on quickly. 

“What’s that over there? It looks like someone’s having a picnic. I thought we were the only ones here.” 

“Hm, let’s go see.” George led them to a large blanket and Alex laughed when he saw the hamper of food waiting for them. 

“When did you plan this? Never mind. Thank you. I’m starving!” Alex climbed off Peacock carefully, following the instructions George had given him, and tied her to a tree at the edge of the small lake where she could drink and cool off. George joined him and they walked back to their picnic together. 

“I didn’t want us drinking while we were riding,” George said as he pulled cold bottles of water from the basket, “so Billy only packed water and soda.” 

“I need to buy him a gift to thank him for making this such a special visit for me.” 

“Hey, I had something to do with it.” 

“But I already know how to thank you,” he said with a leer. He kissed him and remembered he didn’t have to hold anything in. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Now eat.” 

Alex worried briefly that if he continued to eat the way he had been since meeting George, he’d have to do more than the occasional run. That didn’t stop him from eating his fill or from stretching out on the blanket for a nap and using George as a pillow. 

George woke first. “Are you ready to head back? I feel like I could use a shower.” George sniffed around. “Definitely a shower. I smell like horse. And outdoors, as my mother used to say.” 

“That’s funny. My mother used to say that, too. My brother and I would play outside all day when we were little. We could find all kinds of trouble to get into but it was safe. She didn’t worry about where we were, just as long as we were home by the time the street lights came on. We’d be covered with dirt and sticky from whatever snacks we got from the shopkeepers. I was charming even then,” he smiled at George, eyes sparkling with mischief, “and I could always talk them into giving us treats for free. My mother would hustle us right to the tub, even before we had dinner.” 

“You’d only really mentioned her getting sick and the tough times afterwards. I’m glad you have some good memories of her.” 

“Yeah. She didn’t deserve the hard life she had.” Neither did I, he thought. “How about you? Do you have any good memories of your mother?” 

“Honestly? No. She was controlling and hectoring my whole life. I was the dutiful son and took care of her as she got older but our relationship could never be called anything but strained. No matter what I accomplished, it was never enough. Magna cum laude, Law Review, a successful law practice, a professorship at a top rated law school. It was never enough. I didn’t want her to die, no child wants to lose a parent, but once she was gone, I finally felt free.” He didn’t notice Alex had taken has hand until he finished and he curled their fingers together. 

“George,” Alex said quietly. 

“Yes?” 

“You are good enough.” 

“I never knew you could order a Thanksgiving meal like this and have it delivered hot and ready to eat.” They were having a casual dinner at the kitchen table, all of the food set out on the counter, with Alex digging in like he’d never seen food before. “Well, I guess I knew it. I just never thought to do it. All through college, John and I would cook a turkey and invite our single friends to bring a dish. Our friends came from all over the east coast, there was even an Irish guy and a French guy, and it still wasn’t as elaborate as this spread. I’m going to be in a food coma until it’s time to leave!” 

They had no interest in football, so they spent the rest of the afternoon curled up under a blanket on the giant sofa and watching old movies until they felt like they had room for dessert. ‘Watching’ might have been a generous description since Alex’s eyes fluttered closed as soon as he felt George’s fingers massaging his head. George watched the sunset and pondered his good fortune. 

The next few days followed the same pattern; sleeping late or getting up early to ride the horses, sharing secrets, eating through the mountain of leftovers, watching the sunrises and sunsets. 

“I’m not ready to go back to real life. Why can’t we stay here forever?” 

“Because you have school and we both have work. Now if you want to be a cowboy instead of a lawyer, I’ll connect you with Billy and you can stay here.” 

“Nah, it wouldn’t work unless you were here to see how good I looked in my chaps.” Alex looked up from drying the plates George had washed and puckered his lips. George put his wet hands at Alex’s waist and pulled him close. The dishwater went cold. They didn’t care.

“How was your Thanksgiving? It was weird not spending it with you.” Almost a week had passed since Alex and George had returned from Mount Vernon, which meant it had been nearly two weeks since Alex had had a coffee date with John. 

“Shitty. Francis showed up.” 

“John. No.” 

“Yeah. I’m an idiot. I don’t know why I thought I could keep my emotions out of it.” He couldn’t keep his emotions out of it because he couldn’t stop imagining Alex writhing beneath him. Francis made a poor substitute; he didn’t take instruction well and he kept fighting back. John preferred his partners more docile. “And when I woke up the next morning, he had sneaked away like the coward he is. No note, no nothing. I guess he needed one last hurrah before he settled into his straight life with Martha Rutledge. She’s an even bigger fool that me. She has to know he’s just fucking her for the money. At least I can use loneliness as my excuse.” 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“It’s fine. How was yours? Did Fancy Pants have a big colonial meal catered?” 

Alex couldn’t help the dreamy look that came over his face and he tried to hide behind his coffee cup. “Good. I mean really good. He had this whole romantic thing going; you know, the perfect setup for a proposal. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have said if he had proposed. It’s only been four months. That’s kind of fast, don’t you think?”

“Do you love him?” Please say no, John thought. “There are no time limits on falling in love.” 

Alex stretched his arms on the table and rested his head between them on the table. “Yes,” he moaned loudly. “I do. How did I let this happen? My focus is supposed to be on school right now.” 

John laughed. It was hollow. Alex didn’t notice. 

“Speaking of school, I got a B+ on my Con Law paper. Can you believe that?” 

“A B+? What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I worked my butt off on that paper. I know Professor Wyeth is friends with Jefferson’s family. I hope he’s not playing favorites.” 

“Is it possible it just wasn’t your best work?” 

Alex pulled out his phone and emailed the paper to John. “You read it and let me know.” He noticed the time. “Oops, I gotta go. I’m supposed to be baking muffins with George and Martha.” 

“How domestic. I’ll let you know about the paper.” 

Martha stood in George’s kitchen and helped him mix his basic muffin batter. When Alex arrived, they would divide it and add the ingredients to make chocolate, cranberry orange, blueberry, and banana nut muffins to share. But while they were alone, however, she saw her best chance to get some details about their Thanksgiving getaway. George had been giving her a rundown of what they had done and she had never seen him look happier. “You didn’t propose, though.” 

“No. It was like we were floating in this love bubble and I was afraid it would burst if I added one more thing. I had the ring and he even made a joke about waiting for the wedding when I offered to carry him over the threshold.” He tasted the batter with the tip of his finger and gave it his approval. “I guess I was worried he would say no. He’s so used to being on his own; I think he still struggles with having a partner in life.” 

“Maybe you’re just not sure-” 

“That’s just it. I’m positive. I’ve considered it from all angles and in every calculation, I love him and want to be his husband.” 

“Then you’ll know when the time is right. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.” She kissed his cheek just as Alex entered the kitchen and she moved away quickly. 

“Did I interrupt something?’ he joked. “Because I can leave and come back later if you two need some time alone.” 

“No, Martha was just giving me some advice. I’ll fill you in later.” George had absolutely no intention of sharing the details of his discussion with Martha. Instead, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, then tipped his face up for a slow, easy kiss.” 

Martha cleared her throat. “I’m still here.” 

“Yes, you are. Hi, Martha. Sorry I’m late.” He eyed the mixing bowls and baking supplies filling the counters. “Looks like I missed the main event.” 

“Not at all. Grab an apron.” 

“Why are you doing this?” The stranger had been waiting in the dark at Professor Wyeth’s house when he arrived from school the following Monday, drinking from a disposable coffee cup as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Wyeth’s computer cast his face in an eerie glow, turned on and waiting for Wyeth’s university login. Before Wyeth could react, the stranger had tied him to a chair and was depressing the plunger on the insulin syringe. 

“I just need to make sure you’re motivated to follow my instructions. Go over the last set of papers for your Constitutional Law class. Raise the grades a half grade for everyone. Just tell them you reconsidered their arguments and decided to give them credit for thinking outside the box.” 

The stranger untied one of Wyeth’s hands and moved the computer closer, then went to the refrigerator and poured a half cup of orange juice. “Work fast. We wouldn’t want you to pass out before you’re finished.” 

Wyeth changed the grades. “You won’t get away with this. I can just change the grades back once you leave.” 

“You could. But you won’t,” he said menacingly. “You wouldn’t want to have another accidental overdose and not be able to reach something sweet in time.” He drained his coffee and stepped on the lever to raise the trash can lid, then thought better of it. He carefully folded the cup and put it in his pocket instead. 

When the students arrived for class that week, they were met with a note on the whiteboard notifying them that class had been cancelled. They were instructed to analyze the next case on the syllabus and be prepared to explain the arguments made by the parties. They were also instructed to check their emails for an announcement, which they did immediately. 

“Yes.” Alex pumped his fists in the air. “I knew my paper was better than a B+.” 

“This is very interesting. Professor Wyeth has never changed a posted grade in all the years he’s taught this class.” Burr used his phone’s calculator app to compute his adjusted GPA and smiled at the result. “Someone must have made a very convincing argument.” 

“It didn’t help me,” Angelica complained. “I already had the top grade.” Everyone ignored her not-so-subtle bragging. 

“Well, I heard-” Tallmadge started before Alex interrupted him. 

“You’re always ‘hearing’ something. Are you some kind of spy?” 

Tallmadge ignored him and continued, “I heard he had some kind of medical crisis and rushed himself to the ER. Maybe his brush with death made him feel a little more generous.” 

“Hm, maybe.” Alex couldn’t help shake off the nagging feeling this had something to do with him. 

**Alex: class is canceled. R u free 4 coffee?**

**George: I decided to work from home this morning. You should join me.**

**Alex: 🏃🍆🍑💦**

**George: Funny. I’ll be in the bedroom. Don’t make me wait.**

“What time are you going to work?” 

“I’m not.” He buried his face further into the pillow, muffling his voice. “My hot boyfriend drained all my energy.” 

“Well, your hot boyfriend needs to go stack some library books, so get up.” 

“No. I’m just going to stay here and try to recover. I’ll order something for dinner and you can pick it up on your way home. I don’t think my wobbly legs will let me cook.” 

“Well, fix that because I’m going to need them wrapped around me later, old man.” 

George groaned as he drifted to sleep, “Don’t call me old.” 

**Hot Boyfriend: Picked up dinner. omw**

**Old Man: My legs have recovered.**

**Hot Boyfriend:** **( ****͡****° ****͜ʖ** **͡****°)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IRL Peacock was a horse Hamilton purchased in 1799 for $120 (about $2230 in today's dollars). Nelson and Blueskin, Washington's favorite mounts, survived the Revolution unscathed and lived out the remainder of their lives unridden at Mount Vernon.
> 
> Come see me on tumblr (lamsfan1)


	9. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and George make some confessions.

“I don’t want to quit my job.” 

“But you don’t need to work. I’ve got enough money to support both of us. I can give you an allowance. Wait, that was a bad word choice. It will be your money. You can spend it however you want.”

“George, I could never support myself on fifteen hours a week at the library, so you know it’s not just about the money. I like working; I like being around people and it makes me feel useful.” He sat on the sofa next to George and took his hand. “What’s really happening here?” 

“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you. You’ve got so much going on: work, school, your blog, your study group. And you’re spending more time with John.” 

“Wait. Is that what this is about?” Alex bit back his laughter. “You’re jealous of John?” 

“Of course not!” 

“Well, it sure seems like it to me. Look, I loved John. I probably always will in a way. But his jealousy was one of the main things that broke us up. He tried to isolate me from my friends, make me dependent on him. This feels the same.” 

“If he did all that, why are you still friends with him? He sounds horrible. And you know how he acts towards me. I tried to play it off as a joke at first; it’s not so funny anymore.” 

“One, he got help and though it took awhile, we were able to fix some things. Two, he’s not like Martha, all encouraging and welcoming. I wish he was. But he feels like you’re replacing him and he’s struggling with it. He’ll figure it out. He just needs some time.” He continued to massage George’s hand. “And third, I need my own money. I know my contribution to the household is small but I need to be able to offer something. This needs to be a partnership. We talked about this before I moved in.” 

George leaned back on the sofa and let Alex move into his favorite position under his arm. “I get it. I’m sorry.” He stroked Alex’s hair. “You said it was one of the main things. What else happened?” 

Alex hesitated before answering, and when he did, his embarrassment was clear. “He liked it rough, if you know what I mean. You know me; I’m willing to try almost anything. Anyway, we agreed on a stoplight system but sometimes when I called ‘red,’ he wouldn’t stop. He would laugh about how beautiful I looked with tears in my eyes and say he just couldn’t help himself. It destroyed my ability to trust him for a long time.” 

“He sexually assaulted you. I don’t understand how you can forgive him for that.” 

Alex turned his face up to look at George and didn’t like the expression he saw. “Don’t look at me like I’m stupid. I’m not stupid.” 

“I didn’t say you were stupid. But he hurt you. You have to know that continuing a relationship of any kind with him isn’t smart.” 

“I know. It wasn’t until I met you that I really understood how fucked up things were with us. I don’t think I knew a man could be strong and in control while still being gentle and loving. Just let me work it out. Okay?” 

George kissed his forehead. “Yes. Let me know if I can do anything to help.” 

As if on cue, they both heard the text chime and George pretended not to look over Alex’s shoulder to see John’s nickname. Alex put the phone in his pocket without responding. He needed some time to figure out how to let him down gently. 

**TurtleBoi: Coffee tomorrow?**

Later that night, once they had made up in the best way possible from their almost-argument and George was snoring softly, Alex answered. 

**Little Lion: Can we reschedule? You know how busy it is at the end of the semester. I promise we’ll get 2gether after the new yr**

He crossed his fingers and hoped his response sounded casual enough. He knew John would not handle it well when he broke off their relationship. 

“How did Billy like his thank you gift?” Alex sat at the kitchen table and balanced the household checkbook. In the division of household chores, managing their joint finances had fallen to him. He didn’t mind; he was good at budgeting and didn't mind taking over the task. 

“He loved it.” 

“Good because I think he might need to help us out at Christmas. He doesn’t usually travel for the holidays, does he?” 

“No, I think most of his family is in Virginia.” He put up his index finger to have Alex wait while he gave the blender one last pulse and poured their smoothies into the waiting glasses. “Why? What did you have in mind?” 

“I thought we could go back to Mount Vernon for Christmas, if that’s okay with you.” 

“Of course it’s okay with me. I just assumed you’d want to go farther south. Christmas in Virginia can be just as cold as New York.” 

“I know.” He got up and went to the other side of the table to settle himself in George’s lap. “But I enjoyed being with you, no school or work to distract us from one another.” 

“Me, too. I believe I called it a ‘love bubble’ when Martha asked if we’d had a good time.” 

“That’s cute. Corny but cute. Come here.” Alex kissed him and licked his lips. “You taste like mango. I like it.” He pulled him closer and kissed him again, slipping one hand between George’s legs and rubbing. 

“We’re not going to finish the bills, are we?” 

“Later.” Alex placed a finger in the elastic band of George’s shorts and led him from the kitchen. He paused at the foot of the stairs and turned to put their lips together again. “Why are you so hot? You don’t even have to do anything sexy to turn me on. Just the feel of your lips on mine is enough to make me forget my dang name. And, oh,” he moaned, “when I feel your cock against my leg, all hard and hot, all I can think of is wrapping my lips around it, tasting you, feeling you heavy on my tongue.” 

“Alex, you know what that kind of talk does to me.” 

“I do. So why are we still standing here?” The words were barely out of his mouth when George scooped him up and jogged up the stairs. 

As soon as he came back to his senses, George booked their flights and sent an email to Billy with their arrival information. Alex slept through his movement, the sheet around his waist low enough to expose the smooth skin on his back. George pushed his hair aside and kissed his neck. Returning to their ‘love bubble’ definitely sounded like a good idea. 

Alex’s Thanksgiving prediction about eating too much had been correct. Food seemed to be everywhere and he needed to do something before George complained about his pooch becoming something bigger. So he started running again. Running had the added bonus of allowing him to clear his mind while he worked off the calories but he couldn’t completely relax. Something made his spine tingle and not being able to identify it frustrated him. He ticked off things that could be wrong, going through the different areas of his life. Things with George were great, he had first crack at the resource materials he needed for his classes because of his job at the library, and John seemed okay with them spending less time together. Life was good but he still couldn’t get rid of the burning in his stomach. So he ran, one foot in front of the other, over and over, to rid himself of his uneasiness. 

After two miles, he felt the tightness in his muscles begin to loosen. But when he stopped to stretch before the return trip, that feeling of agitation returned almost immediately, like someone was watching. He turned suddenly to look behind him and saw nothing. Nothing but the shaking of the leaves on a large tree. 

As the days grew shorter, George became increasingly concerned about Alex jogging alone and in the dark. He tried to convince him to run on the treadmill at home or at the gym instead, but Alex was stubborn, so sure he could protect himself from any danger. He claimed the night air helped him think. Still the feeling of foreboding seemed stronger tonight and George found himself checking the time on his phone and pacing as he waited for Alex to return. The sound of the door slamming open startled him and Alex almost fell into his arms as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“Alex! What happened? Why are you so out of breath?” 

“I ran home.” He realized how silly that sounded and clarified. “I mean I ran home like a crazy man instead of jogging like a normal person.” 

George closed the door and half-helped, half carried Alex to the sofa. “Sit still. I’ll get you some water.” 

Alex continued filling him in while he walked to the kitchen. “I know it’s my imagination, George, but I’ve had this weird feeling lately, like someone is following me.” He sipped the water George placed in his hands when he returned. 

“What do mean?” 

“It’s just,” he paused, “a feeling. But tonight, I turned around suddenly and the leaves on the trees next to the path were shaking, like someone had run into them to hide. I didn’t go back to check; I just crossed the street and headed home as fast as I could.” 

George sat next to him and pulled him close. “Has anything else happened? You seem pretty shaken up for this to be the only incident.” 

“I can’t put my finger on anything but I’ve felt antsy for awhile. I guess Jefferson ignoring me has thrown me off my game more than I thought.” He sipped more water. “I’m sorry. I’m being dramatic.” 

As if on cue, George’s phone chimed with a text notification.

**Unknown: You shouldn’t let your sexy boyfriend jog alone. **


	10. BenjaminTallmadge, At Your Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George enlists help with his problem.

* * *

Alex didn’t know how close he had come to the truth when he called Ben Tallmadge a spy. To help fund his undergraduate degree, and now law school, Ben had worked as an investigator for Washington’s firm. He didn’t have any formal training but he was a natural. The people he followed never noticed him and, if they did, he fit the description of every other early-twenties college student. So it didn’t come as a complete surprise when Washington called him in on a more personal matter. 

“Alex feels like someone’s been following him, and then the other night I received this.” He handed Ben his phone, open to the threatening text. “He read this yet he still refuses to let me hire personal security for him. But both of us are anxious every time he leaves the house.” 

“Did you file a police report?” 

“Yes, but there’s not much they can do. There was no real threat and all Alex has is a ‘feeling.’” 

“I can probably spend more time with or near him on campus without it looking too suspicious. Are you looking for more?” 

“Yes, coverage whenever he’s out of the house. We’ve been lax about using the alarm when we’re at home but I think I can convince Alex to use it more regularly, especially if he’s home alone. And when we’re together, I think I can protect him.” He hoped he would be able to protect Alex; he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to him. “I’ll pay your usual rate plus whatever you need for your crew. And you’ll probably need something for your contact at the phone company.” George pushed an envelope of cash across the table. “This is time sensitive.” 

“I’ll start today and give you an update tomorrow. I’ll meet you here at the same time and then I’ll figure out a way to contact you without Alex knowing. I assume he knows the password for your cell, so I won’t take the chance of texting you.” 

When they parted company, George unlocked the hidden drawer in his desk and checked to make sure his handgun was loaded before putting it in his messenger bag. Hopefully, he’d never have to explain it to Alex that he'd brought it home. 

“Hey, Alex. I brought you a coffee. Or a Red Bull. You choose.” 

“Both?” He made grabby hands at the drinks. 

“Don’t blame me when your heart explodes.” Ben handed over the cup and the can and pulled a bottle of water for himself from his bag. He watched in horror as Alex poured them both drinks into his travel mug and took a long sip, letting out a satisfied sigh as he swallowed the now lukewarm liquid. “Alex, no.” 

Alex waved him off. “So to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” 

“I need help prepping for this final. I don’t want to show my ignorance in our study group. Angelica can be merciless to those she feels aren’t pulling their weight and Burr, well, he’s Burr. I was hoping you could drill me. Do you mind?” 

“Nah, it’s fine. We can start now and I’ll give you my work schedule so you can come by when I’m here. Most people are already curled up in their carrels, so it’s pretty quiet.” 

“Sure, why not? Do you think your boss will mind if I sit behind the counter with you?” He needed a spot with good sightlines. He’d be a poor bodyguard if he let anyone sneak up on his client. 

“As long as I’m available to answer questions and I shelve the books before my shift ends, she won’t care.” He waved a hand dramatically. “Welcome to my castle.” 

Although Ben hadn’t really needed the help, he found Alex to be an excellent study coach. “Hey, let me give you a ride home,” Ben said when Alex began packing his things at the end of his shift. 

“That’s not nec-” Alex cut himself off when he thought of how he felt running home that night. The late hour meant he’d have to walk a few blocks from the station. “You know what? Thanks. I’d appreciate it if it’s not out of your way.” 

Alex didn’t notice the dark vehicle that pulled out of the lot several car lengths behind them. Ben did. 

“He’s definitely being followed. This guy’s done a pretty good job of blending in, dark clothes, hat pulled down low. But I’m better. I think he’s doing more than just following Alex, though. I think he's trying to protect him somehow.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Okay, so don’t get angry but I did a little investigation of you, you know, just in case you were actually the one in danger.” 

“You didn’t have permission to do that but it’s done. What did you find?” 

“Jefferson tried to get you fired.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“Yes.” 

“Around that same time, he showed up in class with that broken wrist. Alex mentioned what happened when you met him for drinks, I don’t know how you resisted punching him, by the way, and I wondered if the two things were somehow related. I knew that a tenant in Jefferson’s building reported seeing him talking to a man in his parking lot the night of the injury.” 

“Yes, Alex mentioned that. He told me you had a 'friend of a friend' who knew something about that, if I recall correctly. He doesn't know about your 'connections.'” 

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, “that guy seems to fit the description of the guy I saw.” 

“There’s something else. Did Alex tell you about our grades getting raised?” 

“Yes, and that the next session of your class was cancelled because the professor had some kind of medical emergency.” George recalled how he had benefitted from that schedule change.

“So, there’s a really cute nurse at the hospital who said Wyeth was there being checked out for an accidental insulin overdose.” 

“Is that unusual?” 

“I don’t know but that’s not the important part. Jefferson was at the hospital with him; they’re old family friends or something. Anyway, she overheard them talking about a stranger who broke into Wyeth's house and threatened him. Wanna guess who he described?” 

“The same guy following Alex.” 

He nodded and tapped a finger to his temple three times before passing a folded paper to Washington. 

George read the name. “Thank you, Ben. Great work. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.” 

John felt the phone vibrating in his pocket and wondered who was calling. Anyone who knew him also knew he hated talking on the phone or checking voicemail. Now, texting, on the other hand, he could do that all day. He recognized the number but let it go to voicemail anyway. 

“John. This is George. George Washington. I know only old people use the phone to talk these days. Guilty. When you get this message, please call me. I would like to speak with you about something important.” 

He saved the message but didn’t call George back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Benjamin Tallmadge was Washington's Director of Military Intelligence and leader of the Culper Spy Ring


	11. The World Turned Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Hell breaks loose.

George prepared to close his office for an extended holiday while Alex studied for finals. He would be available in a true emergency but a lawyer friend had agreed to be first on the call list. He never slept well before traveling, so falling into a deep sleep the night before their departure had been an unexpected pleasure. Then he felt Alex sit up in their bed. 

He sat up slowly and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“I thought I heard something.” 

He listened for a moment before lying down again and easing Alex down with him. “I don’t hear anything. Go back to sleep. I love you,” he said sleepily and snuggled his face in Alex’s neck. 

They heard the glass break at the same time and sat up. 

“Alex, call 911.” George reached into his messenger bag, grateful Alex had never asked why he started keeping it next to the bed instead of by the door. He got out of bed, gun in hand, and headed towards the door. “Lock the door behind me.” 

Alex followed only one those instructions. He finished the call and looked around the room for something to use as a weapon. Nothing. He picked up a shoe, opened the door just enough to squeeze through, and followed George into the hall. 

“I told you to stay in the bedroom and lock the door.” 

“Our chances are better with both of us. And we’ll talk about the gun later.” 

“Fine.” George shushed him. “But stay behind me.” 

Alex huffed at being treated like a maiden in need of defending but he followed George’s instructions this time. They tipped down the stairs together, trying to keep their breathing under control despite the tension. Alex tapped George on the shoulder and pointed to the kitchen, where they could see lights glowing. “I turned the lights out before I came up,” he whispered. 

They moved quietly towards the kitchen. Almost as soon as George crossed the threshold, he crumpled to the floor, semi-conscious from a blow to the head. John picked up George’s gun and pointed it at Alex, gesturing for him to sit. “Good evening, Alex. Have a seat.” 

“What you doing here?" He saw the broken glass from the window in the open door. "Did you just break into our house?” Alex dropped the shoe and squatted next to George to check his pulse. “Why did you hit him?” 

Instead of answering, he yanked Alex up by the arm and forced him into a seat at the table, gripping his shoulder to hold him in place. “You stopped running and you stopped meeting me for coffee. That was mean of you. There was no way for me to see you. I missed you.” He straddled Alex’s lap and stroked his hair. “And the guy shadowing you all the time kept getting in the way. He won’t bother us tonight, though.” 

Alex turned his head to avoid John’s mouth trying to capture his in a kiss. He expected to smell alcohol; surely John was drunk if he was behaving this way but, no, he didn’t smell anything. “What guy?” Who are you talking about?” 

“Oh, you didn’t know George hired your friend, Ben, to follow you? Tsk, tsk,” he said looking down at George. “That wasn’t very nice of you, invading Alex’s privacy like that and then keeping it secret. How’s he supposed to trust you when you don’t trust him?” 

“I trust him. I don’t trust you.” Alex twisted in his seat; John stopped stroking his face and gripped his shoulder again. “What did you do to Ben?” 

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s just taking a little nap outside. He’s really too smart for his own good, you know. He wouldn’t stop following me, well, following you. Same thing. But to answer your question, Alex, I came to get you. George isn’t right for you. You know that. You and I belong together. It’s always been us. That’s why none of your other relationships ever worked.” John set the gun on the table, just out of Alex’s reach, and tried again to kiss him. “It’s such a shame. Poor old George was killed in a home invasion tonight and you were so traumatized, you needed your best friend to comfort you. 

“And you just happened to be here? How will you explain that? And the broken window?” 

John stood and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, slipping them around Alex’s wrists and binding him to the back of the chair. “Oh, that’s easy. George called me and asked to meet. I kept his voicemail, carefully edited, of course. I came to the back door because the kitchen light was on and I thought he was waiting for me there. When I saw the broken glass and the open door, I was worried, so I came in. George had already bled out and you were just holding him, calling his name over and over.” John pretended to make a sorrowful face and used a finger to indicate a tear falling from his eye. “It was so sad.” 

“I’m not going to sit here and let you kill him.” 

“Oh, I expected you to say that, that’s why I brought these,” he tugged on the cuffs. “We used to have such fun with them. Don’t you remember?” 

Alex remembered and he fought against the restraints just as he had then. The more he wrestled, the more the teeth bit into the sensitive flesh on his wrists. 

“Please stop struggling, love. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

George stirred and when John kicked him in the ribs, he curled in on himself. 

“John! Stop! Don’t hurt him. Look, I’ll break up with him. We can start over. I won’t tell anyone what happened. You know I can keep a secret. I never told anyone what you did to me.” 

“You know we’re past that already. And what’s to keep him from talking? No, my plan is solid.” He pulled a capped syringe from his pocket. “This little gem causes confusion and memory loss. You won’t be able to tell the police what really happened and I’ll be the hero.” He uncapped the syringe and tapped it to release any air, then placed it against Alex’s neck. 

John was so focused on preparing the injection, he didn’t notice George struggling to his feet. George steadied himself into a fighting stance and took careful aim. The blow brought tears to John’s eyes and he reached instinctively for his nose, blood already dripping, and dropped the syringe. Alex kicked it away. 

“Oh, you think you can beat me, old man?” He swung and missed. 

George took advantage of the opening and the weight difference between the men showed when he landed a punch to John’s stomach. John doubled over and George struck again; the uppercut knocked John off balance and he crashed into the table. It tilted slightly and Alex watched in what seemed like slow motion as the gun slid across the table and right into John’s hand. John straightened, raised the gun and pointed it directly at George’s head. 

“Put the gun down.” 

John spun around and aimed at the new voice. Alex closed his eyes against the deafening blast and felt the warm, wet fluid dripping into his eyes and mouth as the blood splattered over his face. He struggled to move as a body fell heavily across his lap. When he opened his eyes, John was dead and Ben stood in the doorway, a wisp of smoke coming from the barrel of his own just fired gun. George was still standing, still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest fic I've written. I hope you're enjoying it.


	12. Aftermath

“Get him off, get him off!” Alex didn't recognize his own voice.

George pushed John’s lifeless body to the floor, not at all gently, and searched his pockets for the handcuff key. He freed Alex and pulled him into his arms. “I’m alright. You’re alright.” 

Alex continued murmuring into George's shoulder. “You were right. It was too much for him to have really changed. I shouldn’t have trusted him. I shouldn’t have tried to stay friends. I knew what he was capable of doing. I’ve been a fool.” 

“Alex, slow down. This is not your fault. John is the only one responsible for this.” He continued to soothe Alex and looked over his shoulder to mouth ‘thank you’ to Ben. “He won’t bother us ever again.” 

Ben went outside to wait for the police, and not wanting them to think he was the intruder, left his now unloaded gun in plain sight on the counter. He wondered if things would have ended differently if he had come to earlier. Laurens might have survived but would he ever have left Alex alone? 

It had only taken the police six minutes to arrive, though it seemed infinitely longer. Alex, George and Ben were taken to separate rooms where they were questioned and photographed before their injuries were treated and Alex was allowed to clean John’s blood from his face. The EMT gave George ice packs for his head and ribs, as well as an oral pain reliever, and bandaged the scrapes on Alex’s wrists. 

“I guess you get to take care of me this time,” George chuckled. 

Alex didn’t feel like joking. He glared at the detective in charge before turning to George. “Why are they treating us like criminals? We’re the victims here.” 

The detective overheard him. “I apologize, Mr. Hamilton. We don’t have any more questions for you and Mr. Washington but we will need to secure your residence while we collect evidence. I’ve called our victim assistance unit to help you with a hotel for the night. Is there anyone you need us to notify?” 

George would have called Martha in an emergency but he didn’t want to bother her in the middle of the night. He’d call her in the morning; she’d understand and she could make sure the house was locked up after the police had finished. As crazy as it seemed now, Alex probably would have called John if he and George had ever needed help. But, now… 

“No,” George shook his head. “We were leaving for vacation tomorrow anyway, so our bags are already packed. We just need to bring them down and I need my wallet and my phone to make a reservation for tonight.” 

“Okay, I’ll have one of my men escort you upstairs. Then we’ll take you wherever you want to go. I’d prefer if you didn’t leave town but if you insist, please make sure I can reach you if we have more questions.” 

“Yes, I do insist,” George said firmly. He took the notepad they kept on the refrigerator door and wrote his and Alex’s cell numbers on the top sheet before handing it to the detective. 

George changed his mind about waiting until morning to call Martha and used their ride to explain what had happened. Once she got over her shock and was sure they were both okay, she agreed to handle any repairs or cleanup before they returned from Mount Vernon. By the time they arrived at the hotel, dawn was breaking and they only wanted to shower and go to bed. They had been awake on adrenaline alone but as it ebbed, the pain and memories of the evening presented themselves sharply. They held one another in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the anger and fear and frustration. Alex felt grateful that the water also washed away his tears. 

“He almost killed you.” 

“But he didn’t. I’m still here.” 

Alex gently touched the back of George’s head, then the bruise over his rib. He ignored the bandages on his own wrists. “The EMT seemed sure your ribs aren’t broken but maybe we should go to the ER anyway. Get an x-ray.” 

George could hear the worry in his voice and led them to the bed, where he paused to take two pills and tape an ice pack to his rib, before pulling the covers around them. “He didn’t kick me as hard as he thought. It’s just bruised. Some pain reliever, some ice, and some rest with my hot boyfriend and I’ll be as good as new. Besides, we'll miss our flight if we have to spend hours waiting in the ER.” 

George had requested a late checkout and arranged for the car service to pick them up from the hotel instead of their home. They slept fitfully and moved slowly upon waking, their brains and bodies struggling to cope with what had happened. 

The ringtone George had set for unknown callers barely woke them; after all, if he wasn’t going to answer an unknown call, there was no reason to have a loud ringtone. His headache made him grateful for the muted sound. He put the call on speaker and the tired voice of the detective greeted them. 

“I wanted to let you know that Mrs. Washington met us at your home this morning and made sure the broken glass was repaired.” He sounded confused as to why there was a ‘Mrs. Washington’ when George clearly lived with Alex but continued when George didn’t explain. “Mr. Laurens’ father, Henry Laurens, has been notified of his death and will handle any arrangements. You have the victim assistance coordinator’s number; please call when you return if you need help with clean up or repairs. She can also connect you with counseling services. Do you have any questions?” 

“Yes, when and where can I retrieve my gun?” George turned away from Alex’s scowl. 

“The district attorney wants to compare your version of events with the crime scene investigators’ reports, just to be sure everything matches. You understand-” 

George cut him off midsentence. “Our version? This man broke into our house in the middle of the night. He drugged Mr. Tallmadge, nearly cracked my skull, and terrorized Mr. Hamilton. What on earth would you need to compare?” 

“A man was shot and killed in your home, a man you suspected of criminal behavior, a man you were having followed. We just need to tie up any loose ends. And since you and Mr. Tallmadge were both able to produce the appropriate ownership documents, you should be able to retrieve your weapons after the New Year.” 

“I’ll ignore the implication that we are somehow in the wrong. Thank you for your assistance.” He pressed the **END **button and missed the detective wishing him a happy holiday.

Neither of them spoke much during the ride to the airport and Alex never let go of George’s hand. Once they arrived at the airport, they skipped past the long holiday lines, had a drink in the lounge, something stronger than champagne this time, and tried to get comfortable in the larger first class seats but Alex didn't feel the same giddy joy as before. He reached out again, searching for George’s hand. 

“Alex, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I’m just making sure.” He raised the armrest and pulled George closer, being careful not to press too hard on his rib, and they dozed until the captain announced they should begin preparing for landing. 

“I rented a car since we’ll be here longer than the last time. Billy will be with his family and we might need some supplies. Maybe I can give you a few driving lessons around the property.” 

“I can drive; you know that. Remember I drove the landscaping truck. And the riding mower.” 

“I guess I forgot. You never want to drive when we go out.” 

“I like it when you chauffer me around. And if we’re not together, the subway is cheap and goes practically everywhere. I can even take a rideshare or a scooter in a pinch.” 

“Please stay off the scooters. Those things are a head injury waiting to happen.” 

“Yes, dad.” Alex faked the tone of a bratty teen. It would be a long time before things were normal but he as long as he was with George, everything would fall into place eventually. 

George took advantage of the brief moment of levity. He turned his head so his mouth was close to Alex’s ear and whispered in his rich, throaty voice, “I might have to spank you if you keep refusing to address me properly. I told you what I prefer.” He placed his warm hand high on Alex’s thigh and squeezed. 

Alex swallowed thickly and only George heard when he stammered, “Y-yes, Big Daddy.” 

Their suitcases didn't make it to their bedroom that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do first class seats have moveable armrests? No? Well, this one does.


	13. The Moment You've Been Waiting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Alex celebrate their first Christmas together and discuss some things.

Billy had done another great job in stocking the house with goodies and Alex made a mental note to send him something even nicer than before as a thank you when they got home. They relaxed in their hideaway and eased into a routine. The pinks and reds of George’s bruises had started to change to dark blues and purples. He claimed they hurt less but the quiet gasps and barely perceptible winces he made every time he moved told Alex otherwise. Whenever George left the room, Alex had to stop himself from following, from making sure the man he loved, and had almost lost, was still safe. They danced around conversations about that night, yet the memories followed them like a specter, terrifying and full of dread. In the days leading up to Christmas, Alex let George try to convince him that none of what happened had been his fault. He even tried to convince himself. 

On Christmas Eve, they searched the property for the perfect tree and George did a pretty good Paul Bunyan impersonation, plaid shirt and all, as he chopped it down. They placed it in front of the large picture window, filled it with twinkling lights, and made a cozy nest on the sofa where they could admire both their handiwork and the fire. 

“I’m used to having a few more ornaments.” George had a collection of antique ornaments passed down from both sides of his family, as well as some of the ornaments he and Martha had collected. “We should do some popcorn or cranberry garlands to fill in some of the empty spots.” 

There were only three ornaments on the tree and plenty of empty spots. The first was a lumberjack with George printed on his pocket. When they had first talked about spending Christmas at Mount Vernon and cutting their own tree, Alex looked around until he found the perfect ornament and had George’s name added. He had purchased the matching shirt at the same time and laughed when George held the ornament up next to himself while Alex photographed the scene. The second was a statue of a long-haired younger man, with Alex printed on his apron, pulling a tray of muffins from the oven. George had had an artist friend make it based on a photo he had taken of Alex in Martha’s kitchen. The final ornament was one they had picked together, a hand painted fireplace with two stockings hanging from the mantle. The hearth held a small ‘Our First Christmas’ sign. 

“No, it’s perfect. I thought we’d start our own traditions. We can put all the ornaments you’ve collected over the years on our tree in New York but the tree here is just for us.” 

They lay there, enjoying one another and the warmth of the fire, each wondering how they had been lucky enough to find the other, when Alex noticed the snow starting to fall and sat up. “Look! It’s going to be a white Christmas. I never saw snow growing up and snow in New York just makes it hard to get around.” 

“It definitely is much nicer here. We don’t have to worry about shoveling it or trying to go anywhere. But that reminds me; I forgot to set some background music. Alexa, play A Soulful Christmas.” The music played softly from the ceiling speakers. “That’s better.” 

Alex tapped his foot to the beat. “Yes, it is. Can we open one of our gifts?” He got up, ignoring George’s complaint about losing his pillow, and reached under the tree. He handed George a square, professionally wrapped package, a bit of a splurge but he wanted it to be special. They had limited themselves to three gifts each, even though they both knew George’s gifts would likely be more expensive and elaborate. 

“You don’t want to wait until tomorrow?” 

“No, and just so you know, shopping for you was ridiculously hard. Do you even need anything?” 

“I have everything I need.” George hard a hard time pulling his gaze from Alex and to the package. Alex was everything he needed. He unwrapped the package carefully, folding the paper and setting it aside. The box contained two books: The Rules of Civility and Joseph Addison’s play, Cato. George smiled. 

“You mentioned how much you enjoyed them when you were younger. They’re not first editions or anything but they’re in pretty good shape.” 

“Alex, stop. They’re perfect. Thoughtful gifts are the best kind of gift. Monetary value is not a good measure. Thank you.” 

“My turn.” Alex started looking at the packages under the tree, trying to decide which one to open. “I think this one,” he said and turned back to face George while he opened it. 

“You’re going to have to be a little patient before you can enjoy this one, though.” 

Alex drew his brows together in confusion. He opened the box and found six tulip bulbs nestled in pine straw. 

“I know you couldn’t find the right bulb for the center of the new bed. This one may not be perfect but it will be special because Martha and I cultivated it just for you. We tried to match the sparkle in your eye. It’s registered as the ‘i Alexander in Tulipa’ but we can probably change it if you want.” 

Alex picked up one of the bulb and said softly, “The ‘I love Alexander tulip.’ Thank you, George. I’m sure it will be perfect.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice the ground had been turned over.” 

“You planted them already?” 

“Yes, we needed to get them in before the ground got too hard. I thought we’d try these bulbs in the house as an extra surprise.” He paused for a moment while he pulled a small box from his pocket. “I have something else for you. It’s not one of your three gifts; it’s really something for both of us.” George rose to one knee and held an open ring box in one hand. “Alexander Hamilton, I meant it when I said I already had everything I needed. You have made my life complete. Will you marry me?” 

Alex quickly put the tulip bulbs back under the tree, not as carefully as they deserved, and crawled to George to wrap his arms around his neck. As it turned out, he did know what his answer would be. “Yes, yes, yes,” he said between kisses. “I love you, too.” He remembered the ring and pulled back to allow George to place it on his finger. 

Alex quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake George, and went back to the family room. He took a moment to plug in the twinkling lights on their tree and he jumped a little as the movement caught the attention of two bucks searching for food in the bushes in front of the window. He turned off the flash on his phone and framed the scene, imagining how it would look once John turned it into a painting. John. Shit! 

Martha rocked in the porch swing and waited for George and Alex to return. She could see her breath in the winter air and pulled her coat more tightly around her. She would have been warmer if she had waited inside but she wanted to check on them before they had to see the crime scene again. In the two weeks they had been gone, she had made sure the blood and fingerprint dust had been washed away and swept up the remaining glass on the kitchen floor. She’d had the snow removed from the walkways and porch and cleaned the police officers’ footprints from the hardwood floors. She’d changed the sheets and made the bed. She’d even returned Alex’s shoe to its mate in the bedroom. There would be enough ghosts in the house without physical reminders of that night and she hoped the fresh flowers placed in every room, mostly poinsettias in all their shades, would brighten their moods. 

When she saw their car turn into the driveway, she rose and rushed down to greet them. She placed a hand on George’s cheek and embraced him, wondering what she would have done if she had lost her best friend. Then she turned to Alex; she loved him, too, not just because he was smart and kind, but also because he made George happy. 

“Martha, we’re fine,” Alex managed to say when her hug loosened enough for him to take a breath. 

“I know. I’m just very happy to see you.” She made a conscious effort not to mention how afraid she had been when she received George’s call. She wanted things to seem as normal as possible. Still, she saw Alex hesitate on the first step. “Alex, don’t worry. I took care of everything.” 

“Thank you. I know. I’m just worried it will all come crashing back in full color when I open the door, regardless of how clean the house is.” 

George came up behind him and took his hand. “You know, Alex, I’ve lived here since our divorce,” he gestured between Martha and himself, “but this house didn’t really become a home for me until you moved in. I used to eat take out while standing over the counter. One side of the bed always stayed perfectly made. The only decorations were artwork I had someone else select for me. But now, I want to cook, just so I can look across the table and see you enjoying it. I want to make the bed in the mornings with you and remember how well we fit together at night. I see you everywhere, in the notes you leave on the refrigerator, even in the bits of clothing you leave on the floor. But none of that is as important as making sure you’re safe and comfortable. I understand if you feel you can’t stay here. We can move and make new memories in a new place.” 

Alex tried unsuccessfully to blink back the tears he could feel forming and wiped them away with his free hand. He adjusted his grip to intertwine their fingers and led them up the remaining steps. “No, I agree. We have good memories here. I’m not going to let John take that away from us.” 

When Martha didn’t follow them inside, Alex asked, “Aren’t you coming? We have a gift for you.” 

“I wasn’t. I felt like you two might need some time alone after a speech like that but if there are gifts involved…” 

The spring semester brought two changes: Jefferson had transferred to another school and Wyeth had retired, proving George and Alex weren’t the only casualties of John’s actions. Alex caught Ben’s eye as he came down the hall and wondered if Ben had initially tried to avoid his gaze. 

“Hey. You got a minute?” Alex headed for a private corner near the stairwell and Ben followed. “With everything going on that night, I don’t think I thanked you for saving George. And for saving me. I don’t even know how to thank you.” He had known this conversation would come at some point; he should have planned it better. “Are you okay? To take someone’s life, that is something you can’t shake.” 

“I’m okay.” Ben picked at his cuticles and Alex wondered if he really was okay. “But I’d be lying if I said I’ve slept well.” 

“Same here. But I hate to imagine how much worse it would have been if you hadn’t come in when you did. Thank you. If there’s anything I can do for y-” 

“Don’t worry. Washington took care of me.” 

Alex wondered what that meant. What was George’s life worth? What was his life worth for that matter? What is the proper payment for killing another man? He stepped further into the alcove to let a group of students pass. “Have you heard anything? It’s been a few weeks; maybe there’s been enough time for the gossip to die down.” 

“I haven’t heard anything. I went home for break and I just got back. Sometimes a boy just needs his mother, you know?” 

“Yeah, I do.” They stood quietly for a beat, letting it all replay until Alex finally broke the silence. “You ready to find out how bad it is?” 

Ben shrugged. “I don’t think we can put it off any longer.” 

All eyes turned to them as they entered the lecture hall. 

“I don’t know what to feel.” 

“Hm. What?” George had dozed off and struggled to bring his attention to Alex’s words. 

“He stalked me and tried to kill you. I should be happy that he’ll never bother us again but, we had a friendship, a relationship, and I can’t process those two sides of him.” Those words didn’t express what he meant and he paused for moment to put it together in his head. “He could be very mean but I never thought he was capable of this.” 

George waited quietly, not trying to rush him or tell him how to feel. 

“He’s gone and I’m still not free of him. I need to be free of him. All that time, I was deluding myself into thinking he was healed and we could still be friends. All the times he lied to me, broke his promises, assaulted me. I knew it wasn’t my fault but, even then, I couldn’t stop blaming myself. He was sick and I was just a part of his twisted fantasy. Why couldn’t I admit it to myself? Why did I keep going back?” 

“Alex, none of this was your fault. You have to believe me. John had you so confused, you couldn’t see how bad he was for you. He took advantage of your fears and insecurities,” he stopped Alex from objecting. “He took everything he knew about you and used it against you. You said how he tried to isolate you; you know that was his way of maintaining control. And when you found someone who really loved you, when you found me, he couldn’t stand it.” 

“I know. It’s going to take some work.” Alex curled into George’s arms. “Can you be the big spoon, please?” 

George tightened his embrace and waited for Alex to be ready to continue. 

“I think I might need to talk to someone about this. All of it. I don’t want to saddle you with my issues any more than I already have.” 

“We can go together, if you want. I can’t pretend this didn’t mess me up, too. I couldn’t protect you and it’s going to be awhile before I come to terms with that.” 

Alex felt the hot tear on his neck and turned to face George so he could wipe it away. “You were hurt. And you did protect me. If you hadn’t hit him when you did, who knows what kind of shape we’d be in now.” 

“He almost shot me with my own gun, the gun you didn’t want in the house anyway. I only brought it home to protect you, so how much of this was my fault?” 

“None of it. John didn’t bring a gun, but he clearly planned to kill you. He probably planned on using something in the house all along. Your gun just happened to be handy. He did this, not you.” 

“Logically, I know this. Emotionally? I’m struggling.” George exhaled deeply in what seemed to be an effort to rid himself of his negative thoughts. “I should take my own advice. Let’s try to get some sleep.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“I love you more.” 

“It’s not a competition.” 

George laughed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”


	14. I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluff because I can't help it.

“What are you reading?” 

“Just some research for a case.” 

He removed George’s glasses, then took the book and placed it on the night stand. “Do it tomorrow.” 

“Oh, did you have something else planned for tonight? We're supposed to work on our schedules tonight.” George teased him with the questions. He knew when he had a good thing coming and reached up to turn off his lamp. 

“Let me show you.” 

Afterwards, Alex entwined their fingers and curled into George’s side. “I think we should fly Ben and Martha and their dates, maybe Billy and his wife, to some warm little island over spring break to witness our marriage.” 

George felt his heart skip a beat and took a breath before responding. “Seriously? That’s next week. We can’t plan a wedding in a week.” 

“Why not? You said you didn’t need to have a big event and you know I just want to be your husband. We already have the license and the rings. We just need to see if our friends are available. If we get married this Saturday, we can have a week for a honeymoon before we have to come home. But when we do, we can surprise everyone by introducing ourselves as Mr. and Mr.” Alex paused and raised his hands in a questioning manner. They hadn't discussed any name changes. It didn't seem important in the moment and George didn't seem to notice his brief hesitation. 

“You’re not kidding? You’re ready? We’ve only been in therapy for six weeks.” 

“That’s eighteen sessions total, twelve sessions for each of us. And you know what I learned, George Washington? I learned I am the luckiest man in the world. Not only do you want to be my husband, you’ve been more patient and understanding than any man could expect. I love you and I don’t need anything more than you holding my hand while we say I Do.” 

It took very little convincing for their witnesses to agree to trade the bleak, cold New York winter for the clear water and sandy beaches of Saint Croix. It also didn’t hurt that George picked up the tab for their first class flights and accommodations. 

George and Alex wore matching linen pants and shirts, lightweight and airy, far different than the stiff, dark tuxedo George wore for his first wedding. They recited their handwritten vows on the beach under a canopy of their favorite flowers and their guests threw rose petals as the minister introduced the barefoot newlyweds. Champagne toasts ‘to the grooms’ echoed through the evening. 

“See, I told you we didn’t need much.” Alex brushed his lips against George’s as he spoke, his arms around George’s neck as they swayed together on the makeshift dance floor. The full sound of the steel drums immediately put everyone in 'vacation mode' and they danced with abandon. It all transported Alex back to some of the happy memories he had of home. He looked down at their pedicured feet. “We didn’t even need shoes.” 

“But we did need this.” George stopped dancing and pointed to the fireworks exploding overhead, bathing their faces in light and color, and bringing cheers from the other resort guests watching the display from their balconies. They didn’t notice the flash of Martha’s camera as she caught the newlyweds holding hands and looking skyward. 

They parted ways with their friends after an elaborate brunch the next morning and moved to a private villa on a more secluded part of the island. They hired a crew and went sailing, catching their lunch and cooking it on the beach. They swam until their fingers and toes were wrinkled and when their bodies ached with fatigue from rarely used muscles, they let their oversized hammock and the island breeze rock them to sleep. Sometimes in the afternoons, Alex caught up on the sleep he missed trying to be the smartest in the room while George watched his husband and wondered how a swarm of wasps led to this. 

The gauzy curtains fluttered in front of the open patio doors and the air passing over Alex’s bare shoulders awakened him from his nap. He brushed the hair from his face and turned to see George admiring him from across the room. “Hey. You’re staring at me again.” 

George knew he had been caught and looked down at his book so he wouldn’t have to face Alex’s knowing eyes. "What do you mean again?" 

“Okay, if you want to pretend you weren’t, I’ll go along with it. But instead of watching, why don’t you join me? This bed is too big for one.” Alex patted the space next to him. 

George stood and pulled his shirt over his head as he crossed the room, giving Alex a clear view of his flat stomach and defined abs. “You’re going to wear me out.” 

“Hm. We’ll see.” 

They awoke to a soft knock at the door and Alex kissed George lightly before going to answer it. He returned with a basket of goodies: bath bombs, candles, champagne, strawberries, chocolate bars, graham crackers and marshmallows. "This was just delivered." He opened the card and laughed as he read it. "It's from Martha. She says it's going to be clear skies tonight and that we should make s'mores at the firepit while we look at the stars. You can't get away from us romantic types, can you?"

The end of their island honeymoon came way too soon. Saturday morning found them rushing through the villa collecting bits of clothing and souvenirs, struggling to complete their packing before their car arrived. “Alex, have you seen my phone? Oh, never mind.” He located it when it chimed with an incoming text. He passed his finger over the screen to unlock it. “Oh. Wow.” 

“What is it?” Alex came over to see what had grabbed his attention. George handed him the phone and sat on the bed as Alex scrolled through the series of photos from Martha, ending with the last in a sequence from the fireworks display. “Oh.” Alex looked at the photos, focusing on how Martha had caught the love in George’s eyes, the way George looked at him. Even now, George looked at Alex as though he made the sun rise each morning. “Are you embarrassed? 

“No. Not at all. It’s just that I’ve spent my entire career not letting the other guy see what I’m thinking. Then you came along and it’s all over my face. You’ve changed me. I'm not sure how I feel about that.” 

Alex sat next to George and turned his face to his. “Hey, I love you, too.” 

“What do you think about getting a dog?” George was walking around the family room looking for the perfect spot for Alexander's tulips. The six hothouse bulbs had bloomed within days of their return and the deep, saturated colors reminded George of Alex's hair and eyes. He knew the full bed would be the envy of the neighborhood.

Alex looked up from his book. Since he hadn't done any work over spring break, he was not as far ahead in his reading as he would have liked. “I think neither of us has time to train and exercise one. Why?” 

“One of Martha’s dogs had a litter and she’s offering one of the puppies to us if we’re interested. We don’t have to decide right now. They won’t be ready to move to their new homes for another six weeks or so but she wants to give us first pick.” 

“Let me think about it, okay?” 

George happily agreed, knowing Alex’s willingness to even consider it meant he’d have very little convincing to do. “She says we can come over whenever we’re ready and get to know them.” 

They combined dinner with Martha and puppy introductions. Alex walked Vulcan while George helped Martha in the kitchen. Then the two men made themselves comfortable on the floor and let the puppies crawl over them. While they played with them in the living room, Martha returned to the kitchen to take the ham from the oven. Its sugary and savory aroma filled the kitchen and Vulcan came running to get a closer whiff. Martha found a small piece in the bottom of the pan and fed it to him, patting him on the head and shooing him away. “Now, scat. You know it’s rude to beg.” 

“You know how I’ve always said a dog should be big enough to ride?” 

George nodded.

“I think I’ve changed my mind after walking Vulcan earlier. Big dogs also make big poop. I had to carry a grocery bag and then I had to use two hands to pick it up. I mean, I’m not too dainty for that or anything, but that was a lot.” 

“I’m sorry, love. I tell you what. If we’re walking him together, I’ll pick up the poop. And I’ll make a screened off area out back. You can just open the gate and let him do his thing inside.” 

A crash interrupted their conversation. Vulcan, who was, in fact, big enough that a young boy could ride him like a pony, suddenly raced through the living room with the whole ham held in his powerful jaws and Martha running close behind. “George, catch him!” 

George was too slow to rise from his position against the edge of the couch and Vulcan escaped with his booty, passing through his doggy door and out to his doghouse. “I’m sorry, Martha. That’s my fault for feeding him from the table all those years.” 

“No, it's not your fault. I’ve sneaked him enough tidbits myself. I guess all three of us need to some remedial training.” 

“You still want one?” Alex asked. He tried to hide his smirk.

“Yes, and I’m going to name her Sweet Lips after you.” 

“Please don’t tell anyone else that,” Alex laughed. "I’d never live it down.” 

Martha went back into the kitchen to survey what remained of her carefully prepared dinner. “I hope you don’t mind a semi-vegetarian meal,” Martha called out as she brought the side dishes to the table. 

Two months later, their little family of two became a family of three. Sweet Lips was not allowed in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of Vulcan stealing the ham is true. So is the description of his size.


	15. One Last Hurdle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will people just leave them alone? Can they live happily ever after? Will Alex ever stop thinking his husband is hot?

Alex ran into Ben as he walked across the quad when classes resumed after summer break. They had taken internships at different firms and had seen little of one another. They had become friends during the schoolyear, first because of their classes together and their study group, then because of John, and finally because they genuinely liked one another. “Hey, Ben. How was your summer?” 

“Good. Busy. How about you?” Ben looked closely at Alex and added a comment before Alex responded. “You look happy. Marriage seems to suit you.” 

“Well, we were living together already, so nothing’s really changed. But I have to say it is different somehow. Very good but different. You should try it. If I remember correctly, you and your gate for our wedding seemed very cozy.” 

“Yeah, well, after you and Washington disappeared for your honeymoon, the rest of us enjoyed a week on the beach. On you, of course,” he laughed. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you could be a part of it. Things might have been very different if it hadn’t been for you.” 

“Anyway, Mary, that was her name in case you forgot, started pushing me for a commitment towards the end of the week. I think all the ‘romance’ got to her and she thought she’d take her shot. I liked her a lot; that’s why I brought her along but we hadn’t really been together that long. I wasn’t ready to settle down with her. By the time we flew home, it was already over. It just took us awhile to admit it.” 

“I’m sorry, Ben. We wanted our guests to feel the love; maybe we did too good of a job. You didn’t say anything.” 

“You were so happy; I didn’t want to ruin your honeymoon bliss. It’s fine.” 

“Bliss. That’s an interesting word choice. I like it.” He took a sip of his ever present coffee, then changed the light tone of their conversation. “Do you have some time later? I need to talk to you about something.” 

“Sure. I've only got this class today. We can get coffee.” 

When they met after class, Alex got right to the point. He pulled a manila envelope from his bag and handed it to Ben. “The first one was in the mailbox a few days ago; the second one arrived this morning. I’m not sure if they were directed at me or at George. Either way, they’re concerning.” 

Ben studied the contents and noted the lack of postage or return address. “You know there are some inexpensive camera doorbells and floodlights out there and they’re pretty easy to install. Something like that might let you know when someone is at your mailbox. Washington likes gadgets. I’m actually kind of surprised don’t already have one.” 

Alex let out a small laugh, remembering the day he had joked about Alexa dropping him and George into the bedroom. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking about something. But your suggestion makes sense. I’ll order one.” 

Ben went back to studying the envelopes. He pulled out the first paper, covered with words cut from magazines and newspapers and held back a laugh at the crude threat. The second contained much of the same. “Someone’s been watching too much crime TV. Or maybe not enough, because they would have known more about forensics. And calling you two the f-word? That’s not very creative.” 

“I’ve definitely been called worse.” The wry laugh that escaped showed how much the name calling bothered him. “Do you think you’ll be able to find out who’s behind it? I can pay your regular rate.” 

“Sure. This looks pretty amateurish. It should be easy enough to track. I tell you what, this one’s on me. Call it a thank you for the vacation. I'd like to see if any of your neighbors have camera footage but I take it you don’t want Washington to know.” 

“Absolutely not. He still feels like it’s his job to protect me and I don’t want to have the gun discussion again.” 

“But you remember how you felt when you found out George had hired me to investigate John, though.” If he hadn’t been watching, he might have missed the expression that flashed over Alex’s face. And even though he had seen it, he couldn’t identify it. Was it remorse? Sadness? Anger? “Look, you’re my friend and Washington is like a father to me. I’ve never seen him happier than since you two have been together and I’d hate for a secret to cause a rift. I’ll do this for you but please think about telling him. If it comes out and he asks me, I’m not going to lie.” 

It didn’t take long for Ben to come back with the information. He tipped his head towards Alex, signifying the private nature of what he was about to say. “Washington just won a case involving a soldier who had been outed by a colleague?” 

“Yes.” Alex thought back to the night months ago when he had asked George what he was reading. George had put his finger between the pages of the book and closed it slightly, allowing Alex to see the cover. He told Ben how the Revolutionary War tome detailed the trial of the first man discharged from the Army for sodomy. “I remember thinking how much I hated that word and I changed the topic.” 

“Did he ever tell you anything about the case?” 

“No, just that it could go either way and he was looking for a way for his client to win a judgment and collect damages. The settlement ended up being enough for the plaintiff to leave the Army and live with his boyfriend openly and happily ever after, as they say. Wait. Is that case related to the threats?” 

Ben grunted yes, chewing the French fries he had stolen from Alex’s plate. He pulled a napkin from the dispenser and wiped his mouth before taking a drink of Alex’s coffee to wash them down. 

Alex called the waitress over and rolled his eyes at Ben before pushing his plate and cup towards him. He gestured to what was already on the table and asked, “Another order, please.” 

Once the waitress had returned to the kitchen, Ben told Alex how he had tracked the note back to the defendant in that case. “It’s a real threat. I don’t know if he’s just licking his wounds or if he plans to follow through. Washington may want to think about some extra security and maybe take legal action.” 

Turns out he did. Together they made sure the case was prosecuted criminally; the evidence Ben had gathered had been difficult to dispute, and the poor fool eventually gave up and pled guilty to Misdemeanor Threats. His attorney argued against jail time and he remained free pending sentencing. Then they sued. But first, George and Alex had another discussion, more of an argument maybe, about keeping secrets, about how trust needed to be at the foundation of their marriage. Alex apologized and George forgave him. 

“Your Honor, the evidence clearly delineates the Defendant’s threats towards the Plaintiffs and his efforts to disparage the Plaintiffs’ reputations.” The young attorney strode before the jury and argued the points of the case. Rather than represent himself, George had handed off the case to a junior member of his firm and it provided a good opportunity to give his team some high profile trial experience. This civil case had one purpose: to let everyone know George Washington would always stand up for gay rights and he would never back down from a bully. If it had the added benefit of costing the defendant more money and what little reputation he had left, that was even better. 

The courtroom erupted in cheers when the judge read the verdict. George shook hands with his team, thinking of, but not minding, the bonus checks he would write later and hugged Alex. He had something in mind to commemorate their win but thought he’d give Alex the choice. “How would you like to celebrate?” 

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

“I love it when we think alike.” George winked and took Alex’s hand as he led him from the courtroom. The cameras flashed as they departed and George wondered if he would be caught out again, caught looking at Alex with love. If so, his stoic image would need a major overhaul. 

“When will we get our settlement?” Alex closed the banking program he was using to pay bills and pushed the computer away so George could set the plate of food in front of him. He took a moment to admire George’s physique in his tight tee shirt but he needed to ask this question, so he pushed away the urge to pin his husband against the counter. 

George sat next to Alex at the small table and let their knees touch. “Who knows? Maybe never? I’m sure he’ll cry poverty. We’ll probably have to garnish his wages and look at what other income he has. But why are you asking? It’s not like you to care about money.” 

“I don’t usually. I have you and that’s all I need. But I thought we could make some donations to charity.” 

“Which ones did you have in mind?” 

“I thought we could endow a small scholarship for a Caribbean law student, maybe one who suffered a childhood tragedy. Working three jobs worked out well for me because I don’t need sleep.” He noticed George about to interrupt and added, “And, yes, I met a rich man who happily helped me out here and there but I’m sure there’s someone else out there who’s not so lucky.” He leaned over and pecked George’s lips. “There’s also a small orphanage in Greenwich Village that’s doing good work. And I thought maybe we could pay off Ben’s student loans, if he has any. He said you took care of him after, well, you know. But I feel like we owe him our lives.” 

“You’re a good man, Alexander. I’m not sure how I got so lucky.”

**EPILOGUE**

“So help me God.” 

His right hand rested on the worn cover of the Washington Family Bible; the opening pages listed christenings and marriages through the generations, with the last entry being the marriage of Alexander Hamilton and George Washington. Between its pages lay a copy of the story Alex had written as a young teen about the hurricane that destroyed his town, the one that led to his first scholarship and, ultimately, a new life. Aaron, Ben, and Angelica cheered as Alex finished reciting his oath of office. They had all remained friends following law school; Alex and Aaron had even briefly considered going into private practice together. But Alex had a goal to take the bench with as much experience and as little time as possible. He used an associate’s position at a well-known law firm, a tour in the District Attorney’s Office, and a stint with the Public Defender Service as stepping stones. He learned as much as he could and moved up quickly and when the judgeship became available, he was ready, with research, prosecution and defense experience under his belt. 

George’s quick hug and even quicker peck to his husband’s lips garnered a more mixed response but they had long grown used to the stares and comments from people who thought Alex had simply cruised through the years on his older lover’s connections and money. Anyone who knew Alex also knew he had spent many late nights studying and even more late nights working, making sure his arguments were word perfect. 

He and George had needed to work just as hard to get to the altar. They had enough love; that went without saying. But memories of that awful night had struck often and they had taken turns soothing one another when the dreams had awakened them in the middle of the night. Eventually they were each able to let go of their guilt. 

Alex kept an eye on George while he sipped champagne and made polite conversation with the other new judges, so he saw when George excused himself from his conversation and took out his phone. The text notification came as no surprise. “Excuse me,” he said as he stepped away from his companions to read the text. 

**The Man I Love: I hope you ordered more than one robe because we’re going to get all kinds of freaky in that one when we get home.**

**Here Comes the Judge: Say ur gbyes & meet me @the car**

George patted the cool, empty space next to him and used every ounce of willpower to pull his tired eyes open to search for his wayward husband. Alex re-entered their bedroom, with a photo in one hand and his journal in the other. George cleared the sleepiness from his voice. “Good morning. You’re up early. What were you doing?” 

“Angelica sent me a photo of the investiture. I wanted to put it in my journal but look.” He held up the worn journal. “I’m out of pages again. What number is this?” 

“I don’t know. Ten? I’m surprised it lasted this long. You document everything.” 

“I can’t help it if I’m the sentimental type.”

George motioned Alex back to bed and pulled a flat box from the drawer in his nightstand. “Then it’s a good thing I got you this.” Alex tore off the paper and found an identical journal. He ran his fingers over the soft leather and opened it, ready to glue the photo onto the first page. He stopped when he saw George’s neat script. 

_ **Alexander and George: Another Chapter** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George was reading about the case of Frederick Gotthold Enslin. And the Greenwich Village orphanage is "the orphanage." 
> 
> That's it. Thanks for reading. I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @modernmajorgeneral for being so supportive. I have an idea for a companion piece focusing on George's legal cases and Ben's adventures as an investigator. We'll see.


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